■ 


■ ' 


1  < 

mil 

I 

REESE    LIBRARY 


UNIVERSITY   OF   CALIFORNIA. 

Received ^focZJJ     .,  -  ■  4*- 

Accessions   No.  2-*J  £«_  *?— -    She//  No 

$* *o 


/ 


w 


L\D}j 


7*7        A/ 


(  tfi  CI  tic)0 

TV  ITS!  &  &JEB3  S  3HL&H , 


YYY/////A.J    s,      <  '  ///Y.j //////  /////// , 

(  NY    ,L\c  O  B    A  BIB  [>7H}7m 


lb.  14. 


THE 


YOUNG  CHRISTIAN; 


OR, 


A  FAMILIAR  ILLUSTRATION  OF  THE  PRINCIPLES 


OF 


CHRISTIAN   DUTY. 


^iai 


BY  JACOB  ABBOTT. 


Lifl/?7 


OF  TBI 


#7 

'TJKHtE&SJTY 


PUBLISHED  BY  THE 

AMERICAN    TRACT    SOCIETY 

150  NASSAU-STREET,  NEW-YORK. 


"5     \&*>\ 


Entered,  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  yeax  1K>2,  ij 

PIERCE  &  PARKER, 
in  the  Clerk's  Office  oLthe  District  Court  of  Massachusetts. 


Right  of  publishing  transferred  to  the  American  Tract  Society, 


INTRODUCTION. 


/ 


I.    OBJECT  OF  THE  BOOK. 

This  book  is  intended  to  explain  and  illustrate,  in  a 
simple  manner,  the  principles  of  Christian  duty,  and  is 
intended,  not  for  children,  nor  exclusively  for  the  young, 
but  for  all  who  are  just  commencing  a  religious  life,  and 
who  feel  desirous  of  receiving  a  familiar  explanation  of  the 
first  principles  of  piety.  As  it  is  a  fact,  however,  that 
such  persons  are  generally  among  the  young,  that  is,  from 
fifteen  to  twenty-five  years  of  age,  the  work  has  been 
adapted  in  its  style,  and  in  the  character  of  its  illustrations, 
to  their  mental  habits. 

I  have,  however,  looked  more  towards  childhood  than 
towards  maturity  in  choosing  the  form  in  which  I  have 
presented  the  truth,  and  the  narrative  or  dialogue  by  which 
I  have  illustrated  it.  A  young  man  of  twenty-five  will 
look  back  to  his  bovhood,  and  understand  an  illustration 
drawn  from  one  of  its  scenes,  far  more  easily  than  the  boy 
can  look  forward  to  future  life,  and  comprehend  and  appre- 
ciate allusions  to  the  pursuits  of  the  man.  I  trust  that 
the  reader  of  mature  mind,  into  whose  hands  this  book 
may  fall,  will  excuse  this  partiality  for  the  young. 

II.    STYLE  AND  LANGUAGE. 
J_haye  made  no  effort  to  simplify  the  language.     It  is 
not  necessary  to  do   this    even  for  children.      They  will 


4  INTRODUCTION. 

understand  the  language  of  maturity  easily  enough,  if  the 
logic  and  rhetoric  are  theirs.  I  have  attempted,  therefore, 
to  present  each  subject  in  such  an  aspect,  and  to  illustrate 
it  in  such  a  way  as  is  adapted  to  the  young  mind,  using, 
however,  such  language  as  has  suggested  itself  spontane- 
ously. It  is  a  great  but  a  very  common  error,  to  suppose 
that  merely  to  simplify  diction  is  the  way  to  gain  access 
to  the  young.  Hence,  a  sermon  for  children  is  seldom  any 
thing  more  than  a  sermon  for  men,  with  easy  words  sub- 
stituted for  the  hard  ones.  This  goes  on  the  supposition 
that  the  great  difficulty  is  to  make  children  understand 
religious  truth.  Whereas  there  is  no  difficulty  at  all  in 
this.  The  difficulty  is  in  interesting  them  in  it.  They 
will  understand  readily  enough,  if  they  are  interested  in 
the  form  and  manner  in  which  the  subject  comes  beforg 
them. 

These  principles  will  explain  the  great  number  of  nar 
ratives  and  dialogues  and  statements  of  facts  which  are 
introduced  to  give  vividness  to  the  conceptions  of  my  read- 
ers. Many  of  these  are  imaginary — cases  supposed  for  the 
purpose  of  illustration.  Where  this  is  the  case,  however, 
it  is  distinctly  stated ;  and  all  those  accounts  which  are 
introduced  as  statements  of  facts  are  strictly  true.  I  am 
not  certain  but  that  some  individuals  may  object  to  the 
number  of  imaginary  incidents  which  I  have  thus  intro- 
duced. If  the  principles  stated  above  are  not  considered 
satisfactory,  I  must  appeal  to  authority.  This  book  is  not 
more  full  of  parables  than  were  the  discourses  of  Jesus 
Christ.     I  shelter  myself  under  his  example. 

III.    REQUEST  TO  PARENTS. 
Every  parent  knows  there  is  great  danger  that  children 
will  run  over  the  pages  of  a  book  where  narrative  and 


INTRODUCTION.  5 

dialogue  are  introduced  to  illustrate  religious  truth,  and 
that  they  will,  with  peculiar  dexterity,  find  out  and  lead 
all  that  has  the  interest  of  a  story,  and  skip  the  rest. 
There  will,  perhaps,  in  this  volume  be  less  danger  from 
this,  from  the  fact  that  the  whole  is  so  intimately  inter- 
woven  as  to  render  it  in  most  cases  difficult  to  separate. 
A  mother  can,  however,  effectually  prevent  it,  if  she  pleases. 
If  her  children  are  young,  and  she  fears  this  danger,  let 
her  read  the  book  to  them,  or  let  her  assign  a  distinct  and 
a  limited  portion  for  each  reading ;  and  after  it  is  read,  let 
her  examine  them  in  it,  asking  questions  in  regard  to  the  » 
plan  and  design  of  the  chapter,  the  circumstances  of  each 
narrative,  and  especially  the  purpose  for  ivhich  it  is  intro- 
duced. This,  however,  must  be  done,  not  in  the  suspicious 
manner  of  hearing  a  lesson  which  you  fear  has  not  been 
learned,  but  with  the  winning  tone  of  kindness  and  con- 
fidence. 

IV.    THEOLOGY  OF  THE   WORK. 

As  to  the  theology  of  the  work,  it  takes  everywhere  for 
granted  that  salvation  is  to  be  obtained  through  repentance 
for  past  sin,  and  trust  for  forgiveness  in  the  atonement  of 
Jesus  Christ.  It  is  not,  however,  a  work  on  theology.  It 
is  designed  to  enforce  the  practice,  not  to  discuss  the  theory 
of  religion.  Its  object  is  to  explain  and  illustrate  Christian 
duty ;  but  it  exhibits  this  duty  as  based  on  those  great 
principles  in  which  all  denominations  of  evangelical  Chris- 
tians concur. 

V.  OTHER  BOOKS  OF  THE  KIND. 

There  are  already  several  most  interesting  and  useful 
Dooks  before  the  public,  whose  object  is  the  same  with 
tbis — to   give   Christian  instruction   to  the  young.      This 


6  INTRODUCTION. 

work  appears  not  as  their  rival,  but  as  theii  companion 
Most  young  Christians  have,  in  the  course  of  half  a  dozen 
years,  time  to  read  a  great  many  pages ;  and  as  each  writer 
discusses  different  topics,  or  presents  them  in  new  aspects 
and  relations,  it  is  well  that  books  of  this  class  should  be 
multiplied.  If  twenty  different  individuals  in  various  parts 
of  our  country,  whom  Providence  has  placed  in  such  cir- 
cumstances as  to  interest  them  particularly  in  the  young, 
would  write  for  them,  the  books  would  all  be  read  if  they 
were  properly  written,  and  would  all  do  good.  They  would 
be  different,  if  they  were  the  results  of  the  independent 
reflection  and  observation  of  the  authors,  and  each  would 
cooperate  with  and  assist  the  others. 


CONTENTS. 


CHAPTER  I. 


CONFESSION. 

.Introduction — Nature  of  confession — Case  supposed — Story  of  the  boys*  diso- 
bedience on  the  ice — Consequences — Their  unhappiness — Ghiilt  a  burden — 
Means  of  relief — The  boy's  confession — His  conversation  with  his  father — 
Confession  of  little  faults — The  tom  letter — The  anonymous  letter — Repa- 
ration compared  with  confession — Confession  of  great  crimes — Punishment 
— Story  of  boys  on  the  ice  continued — To  parents  and  teachers — Confession 
a  privilege — Depression  of  spirits — Its  remedy — Careless  confession — Anec- 
dote— Punishment — An  experiment — Story  of  the  dulled  tool — Story  con- 
tinued— Confession  to  Cod — Necessity  of  true  repentance — Immediate  re- 
pentance— Salvation  by  Christ, 13 

CHAPTER  II. 

THE   FRIEND. 

Story  of  an  infant  school — The  new  scholar — The  protector  appointed — Quali- 
fications— Power  and  sympathy — Story  of  the  sailor-boy — The  captain's 
want  of  sympathy — The  little  ship — The  Saviour — His  thirty  years  of  life 
— Howard — Story  of  Howard — Imaginary  scene — The  voluntary  prisoner 
— The  Saviour — The  child's  little  difficulties — Human  sympathy — The 
murderer's  cell — Sympathy  for  the  guilt)' — The  keeper's  kindness  to  the 
prisoner — The  Saviour — The  Saviour's  sympathy — Common  distrust  of  it 
— Illustration — Case  of  the  sick  man — Jesus  Christ  a  physician — Strug- 
gling with  temptation — The  benevolent  teacher — The  teacher  imagined  to 
become  a  scholar — Howard — Sympathy  of  Christ — The  bruised  reed — The 
metaphor  of  the  bruised  reed, 32 

CHAPTER  III. 

PRAYER. 

The  absent  son — The  father's  promise — Its  implied  limitations — Improper 
requests — Requests  in  an  improper  manner — The  letter — Our  Saviour's 
promise — Prayers  denied — Power  of  prayer — Granting  requests  in  another 
form — The  boy  asking  for  a  knife — The  sick  man  unexpectedly  cured — 
Submissive  spirit — Prayers  of  the  young — The  packet — Description  of  the 


8  CONTENTS. 

packet — The  calm — The  Christian  traveller — Books  and  tracts — The  long 
passage — The  approaching  storm — They  watch  the  light — The  storm  in- 
creases— G-oing  ahout — Splitting  of  the  topsail — Danger — Protection  never 
certain — Object  of  prayer  in  danger — True  composure  in  danger — The 
prayer  at  sea — Effects — Sincerity  of  prayer — Ardor  in  prayer — All  can 
pray  who  wish  to. 
A.  difficulty  ahout  selfishness — Reply — Invitation  to  the  weary — The  prodigal 
— The  nobleman — The  desk — The  father's  refusal — Real  selfishness — 
Prayer  of  faith — The  morning  prayer-meeting — The  young  Christians 
difficulty — The  mother — Ood  decides — A  favorable  answer  to  prayer  never 
certain — Danger  of  perversion — The  humble  teacher — Conclusion — Story 
of  the  ship  concluded — The  storm  subsides — They  arrive  safely  at  Prov- 
incetown, 50 

CHAPTER   IV. 
CONSEQUENCES   OF  NEGLECTING  DUTY. 

Neglecting  duty — Injury  which  this  book  will  do — The  disobedient  child — The 
message  disregarded — The  Christian  message. 

Story  of  Louisa — Her  character — The  evening  meeting — Louisa's  interest 
in  religion — Conversation  with  her — Increasing  interest — Unwilling  to 
yield  to  Cod — Her  sickness — She  sends  for  her  pastor — Her  alarm — Her 
increasing  anxiety — Death-bed  repentance — Increasing  sickness  and  mental 
suffering — Danger — Louisa's  despair — Her  advice  to  her  young  friends — 
Last  visit — Her  sufferings — She  dies  at  midnight — Her  feelings  at  last,  78 

CHATTER  V. 
ALMOST  A   CHRISTIAN. 

Almost  a  Christian — Louisa's  case  a  common  one — Neglecting  duty  when  it 
is  clearly  pointed  out — Secret  causes  of  continuing  in  sin — First,  procras- 
tination— The  student's  evening  walks — The  admission  to  college — Resolu- 
tions for  vacations ;  for  senior  years ;  for  future  life — Now  is  the  accepted 
time — Second,  love  of  the  world — Sacrifices  necessary  in  becoming  a  Chris- 
tian— Losing  a  friend  ;  an  enjoyment — Third,  fear  of  the  world — Difficul- 
ties foretold  by  the  Saviour — Entire  surrender  required — B,eal  submission 
— Changing  sides — Address  to  a  young  man, 91 

CHAPTER  VI. 
DIFFICULTIES  IN  RELIGION. 

Story  01  the  Chinese  and  the  map — Difficulties  in  all  subjects — Astronomical 
difficulties — Difficulties  in  religion  to  be  expected — First  difficulty — At- 
tempt to  avoid  it — Conversation  continued — Second  difficulty — Extent  of 
the  creation — Difficulty — The  existence  of  suffering  inexplicable — The 
pirate  condemned  to  die — Accountability — Foreknowledge — Story  of  father 
and  son — Imaginary  conversation  with  an  infidel — Answering  prayer — 


CONTENTS.  9 

Case  supposed — The  sick  son — Miraculous  interference  in  answering  prayer 
— Sources  of  difficulty — Algebra — The  surd — Difficulty  theoretical — None 
in  practice. 
Objects  of  this  chapter — 1.  Inquiries — Disobedient  school-boy — 2.  Perplexi- 
ties of  Christians — Way  to  avoid  them — Plausible  reasoning  sometimes 
unsafe — Scholars  in  geometry — Drawing  inferences — Story  of  the  knights 
and  the  statue — The  shield  of  brass  and  iron — One  kind  of  controversy — 
3.  Difficulties  of  children — Children's  questions — 4.  Difficulties  of  parents 
and  teachers — The  school-boy"s  question — A  humble,  docile  spirit,       .    106 

CHAPTER  VII. 
EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

The  doubting  clerk — The  unexpected  letter — The  sick  child — Possible  mis- 
takes— Men  act  from  reasonable  evidence — Evidences  of  Christianity,  His* 
torical,  Internal,  and  Experimental — Illustration — The  phosphorus. 

1 .  Historical  Evidence — Seal — Miracles — Examining  witnesses — The  court 
— The  court-room — The  prisoner — His  accusation  and  trial — Testimony  of 
the  owner;  of  the  watchman — The  lawyer's  question — The  watchman's 
story — The  prisoner  convicted — Points  secured  on  trials — Three  points  to 
be  attended  to — Irruption  of  the  barbarians — Old  manuscripts — Genuine- 
ness of  the  Scriptures — Quotations — Illustration — Use  made  of  quotations 
— Paley's  Evidences — Necessity  for  proving  the  genuineness  of  the  Scrip- 
tures— The  original  records  not  remaining — The  second  point — Opportuni- 
ties of  knowing — The  housebreaker's  trial — Sacred  writers  could  not  have 
been  mistaken — They  were  eye-witnesses — Third  point — Their  style  of 
writing — Impartiality — Elevated  views — They  were  disinterested — Our 
Saviour's  farewell  address — Interested  witnesses — Battle  of  Lexington — 
Parliament  and  Congress — Points  proved — Argument  from  prophecy — 
Prophecies — False  prophecies — Subject  difficult — "Were  the  Christian  wit- 
nesses believed  ? — Contest  with  paganism — Power  of  truth. 

2.  Internal  Evidence — Unity  of  the  Scriptures — The  Bible  a  number  of 
books — Its  single  object — The  Bible  a  history  of  Christ — Sacrifices — 
Meaning  of  sacrifices — Their  moral  influence — Conclusion  of  the  book — 
Appropriate  language — The  advent  of  the  Saviour — Its  time  and  place — 
The  Mediterranean  sea — Interesting  associations — Character  of  Cod — Lan- 
guage of  nature ;  of  the  Bible — The  sufferer  in  the  hospital — Jehovah  just, 
as  well  as  merciful — Butler's  Analogy. 

3.  Experimental  Evidence — Case  of  sickness  supposed — Medicine — Proof 
of  it — The  mother — The  mother  and  her  sick  son — The  unbeliever — Power 
of  Christianity — Particular  case — Prisons — Old  and  new  system  of  dis- 
cipline— Stories  of  the  convicts — The  disobedient  son — Conversation — 
Struggles  with  sin — Second  story — Nature  of  ardent  spirit — "W.'s  crime — 
Learning  to  read  in  prison — First  lesson — Effect  of  the  Bible  upon  W — 
Sins  against  Cod — "W.'s  mental  sufferings — His  prayer — His  way  of  find- 
ing the  51st  Psalm — His  relief— Close  of  the  convicts'  stories — Charlestown 
state-prison — Old  building — Crowded  night  rooms — Arms — Prison  yard — 
Chapel — Prisoners  going  to  Sabbath-school — Aspect  of  the  school — Pris- 

1# 


10  CONTENTS. 

oners'  dress — Limited  circulation  of  the  Bible — Fear  of  death — The  sick 
young  man — Sting  of  death — The  dying  mother — Practical  directions — 
Difficulties — Disputes — Doing  duty, 133 

CHAPTER  VIII. 

STUDY  OF  THE   BIBLE. 

Way  to  study  the  Bible — The  young  man's  experiment — The  family  circle — 
Distribution  of  books — Interest  of  the  children — Particular  directions — 
Familiar  sounds — The  motto  in  the  school-room — Description  from  the 
Bible — Vivid  conceptions — Picturing  the  scene  to  the  mind — Clear  con- 
ceptions— West's  picture  of  Christ  rejected — Effect  upon  the  assembly — 
Writing  questions — God's  command  to  Abraham — Questions  upon  the 
passage — Questions  -written  by  a  boy — Many  faulty — Utility  of  writing 
questions — Many  questions  on  one  versed-Experiment  tried  by  a  mother — 
A  Sabbath-school  teacher — Rewriting  Scripture — The  boy's  evening  work 
— Actual  case — Passage — Difficulty  arising — Explanation  of  it — Story  of 
Micah,  a  specimen—  Two  specimens  on  the  same  subject — Questions — 
Collating  the  Script  ares — Plan  tried  by  James  and  John — Effect  of  this 
method — Three  accounts  of  Paul's  conversion — Advantages  of  the  plan — 
List  of  lessons — Difficulties  to  be  anticipated — Studying  by  subjects — The 
Sabbath— Jerusalem — List  of  topics — Too  little  intellectual  study  of  the 
Bible — Object  of  the  historic  form — Reading  practically — Daily  reading 
of  the  Bible — Useless  reading — The  apprentice — Reading  two  verses 
aright, 221 

CHAPTER  IX. 

THE'SABBATH. 

History  of  the  Sabbath — Change  from  Saturday  to  Sunday — Beginning  of  the 
Sabbath — Idle  controversies — A  father's  command  to  his  boys — The  ques- 
tion about  the  clock  and  the  dial — Universal  principle — Two  doves — A  day 
of  twenty- three  and  a  half  hours — A  day  at  the  pole — A  day  lost — No 
sunset  for  months — Sabbath  in  Greenland — Change  to  first  day — No  change 
in  the  command — The  creation — Principle  important — Non-essentials — 
Liability  to  evasion — Human  and  divine  laws — Spirit  of  the  law — James' 
way  of  reading  the  Bible — A  boy  studying  his  lesson — The  boat — The 
careful  mother — "Way  to  interest  children — Conversation  with  the  children 
— Ingenuity  and  effort  necessary — The  heart  to  be  reached — Variety — 
Remarks  of  a  clergyman — Necessity  of  variety — Religious  books — Way 
of  spending  the  Sabbath — Various  duties — System  in  religious  exercises — 
Waste  of  time  prevented — Rest  on  the  Sabbath — Distinct  duties  to  be 
performed — Way  to  make  self-examination  interesting  and  useful — Mi- 
nuteness of  self-examination — Prayer — Studying  the  Bible,  and  conversa 
tion  on  the  Sabbath — Frivolous  conversation — Public  worship — Responsi- 
bility of  the  hearers — The  farmer  and  his  boys — Duty  of  the  hearers  to  be 
interested — Sinister  motives  at  church — Way  to  detect  them — Heartless 
worship — Way  in  which  it  is  indicated — Appearance  of  evil — The  summer 
evening — A  walk — Walking,  riding,  sailing  on  the  Sabbath,      .     .     .  257 


CONTENTS.  11 

CHAPTER  X. 

TRIAL  AND  DISCIPLINE. 

1.  Nature  of  Trial — The  steam-boat  on  trial — Efforts  of  the  engineer — Im 
provements — Final  results — Her  power — Safe  and  successful  action — Lifa 
a  time  of  trial — Trials  of  childhood — The  child  and  the  forbidden  book — 
Commands — Pain — Advantage  of  trial  in  childhood — Putting  playthings 
out  of  reach — Conversation  with  a  mother — Trials  not  to  be  shunned — 
Instruction  and  practice — The  merchant's  plan  for  his  son — A  voyage  o! 
difficulty — Its  effects. 

2.  The  rises  of  Trial — Self-knowledge — The  deceived  mother — True  submis- 
sion distinguished  from  false — The  engineer  was  watchful — Trial  a  means 
of  improvement — The  boy  studying  division — The  moral  and  arithmetical 
question — Practical  directions — Cod's  providence  universal — Losses  of 
every  kind  from  Cod — The  careless  engineer — Neglect  of  duty — Conclud- 
ing remarks, 294 

CHAPTER   XI. 

PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT. 

1.  Moral  Improvement — General  improvement  a  Christian  duty — Moral 
improvement — Faults — The  vain  boy — Way  to  reform  him — Conversation 
with  his  father — Instances  of  vanity — The  boy's  list — Effect  of  this  con- 
fession— Secret  confession  to  be  minute — Secret  prayer  often  too  general 
— Way  to  make  prayer  interesting — Formal  confession — Excuses — Way 
to  make  secret  prayer  interesting — Private  prayer — Examples  of  minute 
confession — The  father's  letter — Object  of  this  illustration — Faults  to  \>p 
corrected — Young  and  old  persons — Other  means  of  correcting  faults — 
Exposure  to  temptation — Conversation  between  the  boy  and  his  friend — 
Great  and  small  temptations. 

Growing  in  grace — Unavailing  efforts — The  mother — The  man  of  business — 
The  dejected  Christian — Direct  efforts — Freedom  of  feeling  and  freedom  of 
action — Way  to  mould  the  heart — Metaphysical  controversy — Story  of  the 
Duke  of  Gloucester — Richard's  artful  plan — The  council — Violent  meas- 
ures— Murder  of  the  boys — Analysis  of  the  story — Richard's  wicked  char- 
acter— Sense  in  which  character  is  voluntary — Distinction  between  charac- 
ter and  conduct — Importance  of  it — Moral  obligation — Ways  of  influencing 
the  character — Effect,  of  Christian  knowledge — The  mother — The  child — 
Gratitude — Christian  action — Why  Howard  became  interested  for  prison- 
ers— Paul — Dependence  upon  the  Holy  Spirit — An  evil  heart — Divine 
influence  necessary. 

2.  Intellectual  Improveme?it — A  finished  education — Object  of  education — 

1.  To  strengthen  the  powers — Robinson  Crusoe's  supposed  experiment 
with  Friday — Conic  sections — Difficult  studies — 2.  Acquisition  of  know- 
ledge— 3.  Skill — Three  experiments  with  Friday — Teaching  him  to  count 
— Study  of  mathematics — Imperfect  education — Neglect  of  important 
duties — Intellectual  progress  of  a  young  mother — 1.  Readi?ig — System 
— Variety — Thorough  reading — Short  works — 2.  Conversation — Difficulty 
of  cultivating  it — Means  of  cultivating  it — Experiments  p  -cposed — Plaas 


12  CONTENTS. 

and  experiments — Digesting  knowledge— 3.  Writing— Private  Journals 
— Form  and  manner — Running  titles — Family  journal — By  brothers  and 
sisters — Its  advantages — Subjects — Notes  and  abstracts — True  design  of 
taking  notes — Form  of  books — Plan — Variety — Specimens — Reynolds — 
Humboldt — Chronology — Synagogues — History  of  the  Bible — Sir  Hum- 
phrey Davy — Story  of  the  sea-captain — Hiring  children— The  Saviour's 
thirst  on  the  cross — Deceiving  children — Narratives — Ellen,  or  "  Boast  not 
thyself  of  to-morrow" — The  dying  bed — The  patient's  interest  in  religion — 

Her   address  to  her  husband — Her  affecting  remarks  to  her  children 

Moral  aspects  of  what  is  seen  and  heard — Power  of  the  pen,     .     .     .  315 

CHAPTER   XII. 

CONCLUSION. 

Responsibility  of  religious  teachers — Injury  to  be  done  by  this  book — Imper- 
feet  self-application — A  useless  way  of  reading, 385 


V- 


cf?t 


! 


THE 


>> 


D'NIVEESITY( 


THE 


YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 


CHAPTER    I. 


CONFESSION  OF  SIN. 
"  Whoso  confesseth  and  forsaketh  his  sins  shall  have  mercy." 

I  wish,  ill  this  first  chapter,  to  point  out  to  my  reader 
something  in  ihe  nature  and  effects  of  confession  which  every 
one  has,  perhaps,  at  some  time  experienced,  hut  which  few 
sufficiently  consider — I  mean,  its  influence  in  giving  relief 
to  the  burdened  spirit.  But  to  make  myself  clearly  under 
stood,  I  must  suppose  a  case. 

Two  boys,  on  a  pleasant  winter  evening,  ask  their  father 
to  permit  them  to  go  out  upon  the  river  to  skate.  The  father 
hesitates,  because,  though  within  certain  limits  he  knows 
there  is  no  danger,  yet  he  is  aware  that  above  a  certain  turn 
of  the  stream  the  current  is  rapid,  and  the  ice  consequently 
thin.  At  last,  however,  he  says,  "You  may  go,  but  you 
must  on  no  account  go  above  the  bend." 

The  boys  accept  the  condition,  and  are  soon  among  their 
twenty  companions,  shooting  swiftly  over  the  smooth  black 
ice,  sometimes  gliding  in  graceful  curves  before  the  bright 
fire  which  they  have  built  in  the  middle  of  the  stream,  and 
sometimes  sailing  away  into  the  dim  distance,  in  search  of 
new  and  unexplored  regions. 


14  THE   YOUNG   CHRISTIAN. 

Presently  a  plan  is  formed  by  the  other  boys  for  going 
in  a  cheerful  company  far  up  the  stream  to  explore  its 
shores,  and  then  return  again  in  half  an  hour  to  their  fire. 
Our  two  boys  sigh  to  think  of  their  father's  prohibition  to 
them.  They  faintly  and  hesitatingly  hint  that  the  ice  may 
not  be  strong  enough,  but  their  caution  has  no  effect  upon 
their  comrades ;  and  the  whole  set  forth,  and  soon  are  flying 
with  full  speed  towards  the  limit  prescribed.  Our  boys  think 
they  may  safely  accompany  them  till  they  reach  the  boun- 
dary which  they  are  forbidden  to  pass  ;  but  while  they  do  so, 
they  become  animated  and  intoxicated  with  the  motion  and 
the  scene.  They  feel  a  little  foreboding  as  they  approach 
the  line,  but  as  it  is  not  definitely  marked,  they  do  not 
abruptly  stop.  They  fall  a  little  in  the  rear,  and  see  whirl- 
ing through  the  bend  of  the  river  the  whole  crowd  of  their 
companions — and,  after  a  moment's  hesitation,  they  follow 
on.  The  spot  once  passed,  their  indecision  vanishes;  they 
press  forward  to  the  foremost  rank — forget  their  father,  their 
promise,  their  danger.  God  protects  them,  however.  They 
spend  the  half  hour  in  delight,  return  down  the  river  to 
their  fire,  and  at  the  close  of  the  evening  they  take  off  their 
skates  and  step  upon  the  firm  ground,  and  walk  towards 
their  home. 

The  enjoyment  is  now  over,  and  the  punishment  is  to 
come.  "What  punishment  ?  I  do  not  mean,  that  their  father 
will  punish  them.  He  knows  nothing  of  it.  He  trusts  his 
boys,  and,  confiding  in  their  promise,  he  will  not  ask  them 
whether  they  have  kept  it.  They  have  returned  safely,  and 
the  forbidden  ice  over  which  they  have  passed  never  can 
speak  to  tell  of  their  disobedience.  I\or  do  I  mean  the  pun- 
ishment which  God  will  inflict  in  another  world  upon  undu- 
tiful  children.  I  mean  another  quicker  punishment,  which 
almost  always  comes  after  transgression.  And  I  wish  my 
young  readers  would  think  of  this  more  than  they  do. 

I  mean,  the  loss  of  peace  of  conscience. 


CONFESSION  OF   SIN.  15 

As  the  boys  approach  their  father's  dwelling,  unless  their 
consciences  have  become  seared  by  oft-repeated  transgres- 
sions, their  hearts  are  filled  with  uneasiness  and  foreboding 
care.  They  walk  slowly  and  silently.  As  they  enter  the 
house,  they  shrink  from  their  father's  eye.  He  looks  pleased 
and  happy  at  their  safe  return.  But  they  turn  away  from 
him  as  soon  as  they  can,  and  prefer  going  to  another  room, 
or  in  some  other  way  avoiding  his  presence.  Their  sister 
perhaps,  in  the  gayety  and  kindness  of  her  heart,  tries  to 
talk  with  them  about  their  evening's  enjoyment,  but  they 
wish  to  turn  the  conversation.  In  a  word,  they  have  done 
wrong,  their  peace  of  mind  is  gone,  and  they  shrink  from 
every  eye,  and  wish  to  go  as  soon  as  possible  to  bed,  that 
they  may  be  unseen  and  forgotten. 

If  they  have  been  taught  to  fear  God,  they  are  not  happy 
here.  They  dare  not — strange  infatuation — repeat  their 
evening  prayer  ;  as  if  they  supposed  they  could  escape  God's 
notice  by  neglecting  to  call  upon  him.  At  last,  however, 
they  sink  to  sleep. 

They  next  morning  they  awake  with  the  customary 
cheerfulness  of  youth,  until,  as  they  look  forth  from  their 
window,  they  see  the  clear,  ice-bound  stream  which  tempted 
them  to  sin,  winding  its  way  among  the  trees.  They  say 
nothing,  but  each  feels  guilty  and  sad.  They  meet  their 
father  and  mother  with  clouded  hearts,  and  every  object  at 
all  connected  with  their  transgression  awakens  the  remorse 
which  destroys  their  happiness.  Thus  they  carry  about 
with  them  a  wearisome  and  heavy  burden. 

I  suppose  that  in  such  cases  most  boys  would  continue 
to  bear  this  burden ;  until  at  last  they  should  become  insen- 
sible to  it,  that  is,  until  conscience  is  seared.  But  though 
by  habit  hi  sin  the  stings  of  remorse  may  be  blunted,  yet 
peace  never  returns  thus.  By  repeating  transgression  a 
great  many  times,  we  all  come  at  last  to  feel  a  general  and 
settled  uneasiness  of  Jieart,  which  is  a  constant  burden. 


16  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

Ask  such  an  individual  if  he  is  unhappy.  He  tells  you  no 
He  means,  however,  that  he  is  not  particularly  unhappy 
just  at  that  time.  His  burden  is  so  uniform  and  constant, 
that  he  comes  to  consider  it  at  last  as  a  necessary  part  of 
his  existence.  He  has  no  knowledge  of  what  pure  peace 
and  happiness  are.  A  man  who  has  lived  long  by  a  water- 
fall, at  last  becomes  so  habituated  to  the  noise,  that  silence 
seems  a  strange  luxury  to  him.  So  multitudes,  who  have 
had  an  unquiet  conscience  for  many  years,  without  a  single 
interval  of  repose,  when  they  at  last  come  and  confess  their 
sins,  and  find  peace  and  happiness  through  faith  in  Christ, 
are  surprised  and  delighted  with  the  neiv  and  strange  sen- 
sation. 

This  peace  cannot  come  by  habit  in  sin.     A  seared  con 
science  is  not  a  relieved  one.    But  what  is  the  way  by  which 
peace  of  mind  is  to  be  restored  hi  such  a  case  as  the  above? 
It  is  a  very  simple  way.     I  wish  it  was  more   generally 
understood  and  practised. 

Suppose  one  of  these  boys  should  say  to  himself,  some 
day  as  he  is  walking  alone,  "  I  am  not  happy,  and  I  have 
not  been  happy  since  I  disobeyed  my  father  on  the  ice.  And 
no  wonder,  for  I  did  very  wrong.  How  kind  he  has  always 
been  to  me,  and  how  ungratefully  I  acted.  He  was  right 
in  forbidding  us  to  go  up  the  river,  and  I  was  very  foolish 
and  wicked  to  go.  I  have  suffered  more  in  consequence  of 
it,  than  ten  times  as  much  pleasure  would  be  worth  ;  and  if 
I  had  been  drowned  it  would  not  have  been  strange.  I  am 
resolved  to  go  and  confess  the  whole  to  my  father,  and  ask 
him  to  forgive  me." 

Having  resolved  upon  this,  he  seeks  the  very  first  oppor- 
tunity to  relieve  his  mind.  He  is  walking,  we  will  imagine, 
by  the  side  of  his  father,  and  for  several  minutes  he  hesi- 
tates, not  knowing  how  to  begin.  At  last,  however,  he 
makes  the  effort,  and  says  in  a  sorrowful  tone, 

"  Father,  I  have  done  something  very  wrong." 


17 

"  What  is  it,  my  son  ?"  ^gjjy'6  1\J  -- 

He  hesitates  and  trembles,  and  after  a  moment's  pause, 
says,  "  I  am  very  sorry  that  I  did  it." 

"  My  son,"  says  the  father,  "  I  have  observed,  for  a  day 
or  two,  that  you  have  not  been  happy,  and  you  are  evidently 
unhappy  now.  I  know  that  you  must  have  done  something 
wrong.  But  you  may  do  as  you  please  about  telling  me 
what  it  is.  If  you  are  truly  sorry  for  it,  and  freely  confess 
it,  you  may  have  peace  of  mind  again  ;  if  not,  you  will  con- 
tinue to  suffer.     Now  you  can  do  as  you  please." 

"  Well,  father,  I  will  tell  you  all.  Do  you  remember 
that  you  gave  us  leave  to  go  upon  the  river  and  skate  the 
other  evening?" 

"Yes." 

"  Well,  I  disobeyed  you,  and  went  on  a  part  of  the  ice 
where  you  told  us  not  to  go.  I  have  been  unhappy  ever 
since,  and  I  resolved  to-day  that  I  would  come  and  tell  you, 
and  ask  you  to  forgive  me." 

I  need  not  detail  the  conversation  that  would  follow 
But  there  is  not  a  child  among  the  hundreds  and  perhaps 
thousands  who  will  read  tins  chapter,  who  does  not  fully 
understand,  that  by  such  a  confession  the  boy  will  relieve  \ 
himself  of  a  burden,  and  go  away  from  his  father  with  a  J 
lighter  and  happier  heart.     He  will  no  more  dread  to  meet 
him,  and  to  hear  the  sound  of  his  voice.     He  can  now  be 
happy  with  his  sister  again,  and  look  upon  the  beautiful 
stream  winding  in  the  valley,  without  having  his  heart  sink 
within  him  as  before,  under  a  sense  of  guilt ;  while  all  the 
time,  perhaps,  his  brother,  who  would  not  come  and  ac- 
knowledge his  sin,  has  his  heart  still  darkened,  and  Ins  coun- 
tenance made  sad  by  the  gloomy  recollection  of  unforgiven 
sin. 

So  true  are  the  words  of  Solomon,  that  "  he  that  cover- 
etli  his  sins  shall  not  prosper  ;  but  whoso  confesseth  and 
fbrsaketh  them  shall  have  mercy."     We  are  so  formed,  that 


u^ 


18  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

when  we  have  done  wrong  we  cannot  feel  at  peace  again 
until  we  have  acknowledged  our  wrong  to  the  person  against 
whom  it  was  done.  And  this  acknowledgment  relieves  us 
of  a  burden  as  certainly  as  fire  removes  cold,  or  as  water 
extinguishes  fire.  It  operates  in  all  cases,  small  as  well  as 
great.  And  yet  how  slowly  do  young  persons,  and  even  old 
persons,  learn  to  use  this  means  of  gaining  relief  from  the 
burdens  that  press  on  the  mind.  The  remedies  for  almost 
every  external  evil  are  soon  discovered,  and  are  at  once 
applied ;  but  the  remedy  for  that  uneasiness  which  results 
from  having  neglected  some  duty  or  committed  some  sin, 
and  which  consists  in  penitent  confession  of  it  to  the  person 
injured,  and  to  God,  how  slowly  is  it  learned,  and  how 
reluctantly  practised. 

I  once  knew  a  boy  who  was  intrusted  with  a  letter  to 
be  carried  to  a  distant  place.  On  his  way,  or  just  after  his 
arrival,  in  attempting  to  take  the  letter  out  of  his  pocket 
suddenly,  he  tore  it  completely  in  two.  He  was  in  conster- 
nation. What  to  do  he  did  not  know.  He  did  not  dare  to 
carry  the  letter  in  its  mangled  condition,  and  he  did  not  dare 
to  destroy  it.  He  did  accordingly  the  most  foolish  thing  he 
could  do ;  he  kept  it  for  many  days,  doubting  and  waiting, 
and  feeling  anxious  and  unhappy  whenever  it  came  in  his 
sight.  At  last  he  thought  that  this  was  folly  ;  he  took  the 
letter  and  carried  it  to  the  person  to  whom  it  was  addressed, 
saying, 

"  Here  is  a  letter  which  I  was  intrusted  with  for  you, 
and  in  taking  it  out  of  my  pocket,  I  veiy  carelessly  tore  it 
in  two.     I  am  sorry  for  it,  but  I  have  no  excuse." 

The  receiver  of  the  letter  said  it  was  no  matter,  and  the 
boy  went  home,  suddenly  and  entirely  relieved. 

My  reader  will  say,  "  Why,  this  was  a  very  simple  way 
of  getting  over  the  difficulty.  Why  did  not  he  think  of  it 
before  ?" 

I  know  it  was  a  simple  way.    The  whole  story  is  simple, 


CONFESSION  OF  SO.  19 

but  it  is  true,  and  it  exactly  illustrates  the  idea  I  am  en- 
deavoring to  enforce,  namely,  that  in  little  tilings,  as  well 
as  in  great  things,  the  confession  of  sin  gives  relief  to  the 
mind. 

I  will  now  mention  one  other  case  which  illustrates  the 
same  general  truth,  but  which  is  in  one  respect  very  differ- 
ent from  all  the  preceding. 

A  merchant  was  one  morning  sitting  in  his  counting- 
room,  preparing  for  the  business  of  the  day,  when  his  clerk 
entered  with  several  letters  from  the  post-office.  Among 
them  was  one  in  a  strange  handwriting  and  with  the  words 
"Money  inclosed"  written  upon  the  outside.  As  the  mer- 
chant was  not  at  that  time  expecting  any  money,  his  atten- 
tion was  first  attracted  to  this  letter.  He  opened  it,  and 
read  somewhat  as  follows  : 

" ,  January  4,  1831. 

«  Snt — Some  time  ago  I  defrauded  you  of  some  money. 

You  did  not  know  it  then,  and  I  suppose  you  never  would 

have  known  it,  unless  I  had  informed  you.     But  I  have  had 

no  peace  of  mind  since  it  was  done,  and  send  you  back  the 

money  in  this  letter.     Hoping  that  God  will  forgive  this  and 

all  my  other  sins, 

"I  am,  yours, 

I  remarked  that  this  case  was  totally  different  from  all 
the  others  in  one  respect.  Header,  do  you  notice  the  differ- 
ence ?  It  consists  in  this,  namely,  that  here  not  only  was 
the  sin  confessed,  but  reparation  ivas  made.  The  man  not 
only  acknowledged  the  fraud,  but  he  paid  back  the  money. 
And  if  any  of  my  readers  are  but  little  acquainted  with 
human  nature,  they  may  perhaps  imagine  that  it  was  the 
reparation,  and  not  the  confession,  which  restored  peace  oi 
mind.  But  I  think  I  can  show  very  clearly,  that  making 
reparation  is  not  effectual.  Suppose  this  man,  instead  of 
writing  the  above  letter,  had  just  come  into  the  store  and 


<>0  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

asked  to  buy  some  article  or  other,  and  in  paying  for  it,  had 
managed  dexterously  to  put  into  the  hands  of  the  clerk  a 
larger  sum  than  was  due,  so  as  to  repay,  without  the  mer- 
chant's knowledge,  the  whole  amount  of  which  he  had 
defrauded  him.  Do  you  think  this  would  have  restored 
his  peace  of  mind?  Iso,  not  even  if  he  had  thus  secretly 
paid  back  double  what  he  had  unjustly  taken.  It  was 
the  confession,  the  acknowledgment  of  having  done  wrong, 
which  really  quieted  Ins  troubled  conscience,  and  gave  him 
peace. 

It  is  not  probable  that  this  confession  was  sufficient  to 
make  him  perfectly  happy  again,  because  it  was  incomplete. 
The  reparation  was  perfect,  but  the  acknowledgment  was 
not.  The  reader  will  observe  that  the  letter  has  no  name 
signed  to  it,  and  the  merchant  could  not  by  any  means  dis- 
cover who  was  the  writer  of  it.  Now  if  the  man  had  hon- 
estly told  the  whole,  if  he  had  written  his  name  and  place 
of  residence,  and  described  fully  all  the  circumstances  of  the 
orighial  fraud,  he  would  have  been  much  more  fully  relieved. 
All  confession  which  is  intended  to  bring  back  peace  of  mind 
when  it  is  gone,  should  be  open  and  thorough.  There  are, 
indeed,  many  cases  where,  from  peculiar  circumstances,  it 
is  not  the  duty  of  the  individual  to  give  his  name.  This, 
however,  does  not  affect  the  general  principle,  that  the  more 
full  and  free  the  confession  is,  the  more  perfect  will  be  the 
restoration  of  peace. 

So  strongly  is  this  principle  fixed  by  the  Creator  in  the 
human  heart,  that  men  who  have  committed  crimes  to 
which  the  laws  of  the  land  annex  the  most  severe  public 
punishments,  after  enduring  some  time  in  secrecy  the  remorse 
which  crime  almost  always  brings,  have  at  last  openly  come 
forward  and  surrendered  themselves  to  the  magistrate,  and 
acknowledged  their  guilt,  and  have  felt  their  hearts  relieved 
and  lightened  by  receiving  an  ignominious  public  punish- 
•nt,  in  exchange  for  the  inward  tortures  of  remorse.    Even 


CONFESSION  OF  SIN.  2J 

a  murderer  has  been  known  to  come  forward  to  relieve  the 
horrors  of  his  soul  by  confession,  though  he  knew  that  this 
confession  would  chain  him  in  a  dark  stone  cell,  and  after 
a  short  but  gloomy  interval,  bring  him  to  the  gallows. 

My  reader,  you  can  try  the  power  of  confession,  and  en- 
joy the  relief  and  happiness  it  will  bring,  without  paying 
such  a  fearful  price  as  this.  But  these  cases  lead  me  to 
remark  upon  one  other  subject  connected  with  confession;  I 
mean  punishment.  Sometimes,  as  I  before  remarked,  when 
a  person  confesses  some  wrong,  he  brings  himself  under  the 
necessity  of  repairing  the  injury  done,  and  at  other  times  of 
submitting  to  punishment.  Parents  often  forgive  their  chil- 
dren when  they  have  done  wrong,  if  they  will  only  confess 
it ;  and  though  this  ought  sometimes  to  be  done,  there  is 
yet  great  danger  that  children  in  such  cases  will  soon  ac- 
quire a  habit  of  doing  wrong,  and  then  coming  to  confess  it 
with  a  careless  air,  as  if  it  was  not  of  much  consequence,  or 
rather,  as  if  confessing  the  sin  destroyed  it,  and  left  them 
perfectly  innocent. 

I  should  think,  on  this  account,  that  the  father  whose 
sons  had  disobeyed  him  on  the  ice,  would  be  much  at  a  loss 
to  know  what  to  do,  after  one  of  his  boys  had  so  frankly 
acknowledged  it.  I  can  suppose  him  saying  to  his  son, 
"Well,  my  son,  I  am  glad  you  have  told  me  freely  all  about 
this.  You  did  very  wrong,  and  I  am  very  much  at  a  loss  to 
know  what  I  ought  to  do.  I  will  consider  it,  and  speak  to 
you  by  and  by  about  it.  In  the  meantime,  you  may  be 
assured  that  I  forgive  you  from  my  heart,  and  if  I  should 
conclude  to  do  any  thing  farther,  it  will  not  be  because  I  am 
now  displeased,  but  because  I  wish  to  save  you  effectually 
from  doing  wrong  in  future." 

When  the  father  is  left  to  muse  by  himself  upon  the 
subject,  we  may  imagine  him  to  be  thinking  as  follows: 

"  Well,  I  should  not  have  thought  that  my  boys  would 
have  broken  their  promise,  and  disobeyed  me.     I  wonder  if 


22  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

my  eldest  disobeyed  also.  The  youngest  only  spoke  of  him- 
self; shall  I  ask  him?  No.  Each  shall  stand  on  indepen 
dent  ground.  If  the  other  sinned  too,  he  too  may  come 
voluntarily  and  obtain  peace  by  confession,  or  he  must  con- 
tinue to  bear  the  tortures  of  self-reproach.  And  now,  if  I 
take  no  farther  notice  of  the  transgression  which  is  already 
acknowledged,  I  am  afraid  that  my  son  will  the  next  time 
yield  more  easily  to  temptation,  thinking  that  he  has  only  to 
acknowledge  it  to  be  forgiven.  Shall  I  forbid  his  skating 
any  more  this  whiter,  or  for  a  month ;  or  shall  I  require 
him,  every  time  he  returns,  to  give  me  an  exact  account 
where  he  has  been  ?  I  wish  I  could  forgive  and  forget  it 
entirely,  but  I  am  afraid  I  ought  not." 

Thus  he  would  be  perplexed;  and  if  he  was  a  wise 
parent,  and  under  the  influence  of  Chrisjtian  principle,  and 
not  of  mere  parental  feeling,  he  would  probably  do  something 
more  than  merely  pass  it  by.  The  boy  would  find  that  con- 
fession to  such  a  father  is  not  merely  nominal ;  that  it  brings 
with  it  inconvenience,  or  deprivation  of  enjoyment,  or  per- 
haps positive  punishment.  Still,  he  would  rejoice  in  the 
opportunity  to  acknowledge  his  sins  :  for  the  loss  of  a  little 
pleasure,  or  the  suffering  of  punishment,  he  would  feel  to  be 
a  very  small  price  to  pay  for  returning  peace  of  conscience, 
and  he  would  fly  to  confession  as  a  refuge  from  self-reproach, 
whenever  he  had  done  wrong. 

Let  the  parents  or  the  teachers  who  may  read  this,  take 
this  view  of  the  nature  of  confession,  and  practise  upon  it  in 
their  intercourse  with  their  children  and  their  pupils.  Meet 
them  kindly  when  they  come  forward  to  acknowledge  their 
faults.  Sympathize  with  them  in  the  struggle  which  you 
know  they  must  make  at  such  a  time,  and  consider  how 
strong  the  temptation  was  which  led  them  to  sin.  And  in 
every  thing  of  the  nature  of  punishment  which  you  inflict, 
be  sure  the  prevention  of  future  guilt  is  your  motive,  and 
not  the  gratification  of  your  own  present  feeling  of  dis- 


CONFESSION  OF   SIN.  23 

pleasure.  If  this  is  dor.e,  those  under  your  care  will  soon 
value  confession  as  a  privilege,  and  will  often  seek  in  it  a 
refuge  from  inward  suffering. 

Yes,  an  opportunity  to  acknowledge  wrong  of  any  kind 
is  a  great  privilege;  and  if  any  of  my  readers  are  satisfied 
that  what  I  have  been  advancing  on  this  subject  is  true, 
I  hope  they  will  prove  by  experiment  the  correctness  of 
these  principles.  Almost  every  person  has  at  all  times  some 
little  sources  of  mieasiness  upon  his  mind.  They  are  not 
very  well  defined  in  their  nature  and  cause,  but  still  they 
exist,  and  they  very  much  disturb  the  happiness.  Now,  if 
you  look  within  long  enough  to  seize  hold  of  and  examine 
these  feelings  of  secret  uneasiness,  you  will  find  that,  in  al- 
most every  case,  they  are  connected  with  something  wrong 
which  you  have  done.  That  anxious  brow  of  yours  then  is 
clouded  with  remorse  ;  we  call  it  by  soft  names,  as  care, 
solicitude,  perplexity,  but  it  is  generally  a  slight  remorse,  so 
weak  as  not  to  force  its  true  character  upon  your  notice, 
but  yet  strong  enough  to  destroy  peace  of  mind.  A  great 
deal  of  what  is  called  depression  of  spirits  arises  from  this 
source.  There  are  duties  which  you  do  not  faithfully  dis- 
charge, or  inclinations  which  you  habitually  indulge  when 
you  know  they  ought  to  be  denied.  Conscience  keeps  up, 
therefore,  a  continual  murmur,  but  she  murmurs  so  gently 
that  you  do  not  recognize  her  voice,  and  yet  it  destroys 
your  rest.  You  feel  restless  and  unhappy,  and  wonder  what 
can  be  the  cause. 

Let  no  one  now  say,  or  even  suppose,  that  I  think  that 
all  the  depression  of  spirits  which  exists  in  human  hearts  is 
nothing  but  a  secret  sense  of  guilt.  I  know  that  there  is 
real  solicitude  about  the  future,  unconnected  with  remorse 
for  the  past ;  and  there  is  often  a  sinking  of  the  spirits  in 
disease,  which  moral  remedies  will  not  touch.  These  cases 
are,  however,  comparatively  few.  A  far  greater  proportion  of 
the  restlessness  and  of  the  corroding  cares  of  human  hearts 


24  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

is  produced,  or  at  least  very  much  aggravated,  by  "being  con- 
nected with  guilt. 

I  suppose  some  of  my  readers  are  going  over  these  pages 
only  for  amusement.  They  will  be  interested,  perhaps,  in 
the  illustrations,  and  if  of  mature  or  cultivated  minds,  in  the 
point  to  which  I  am  endeavoring  to  make  them  tend.  I 
hope,  however,  that  there  are  some  who  are  reading  really 
and  honestly  for  the  sake  of  moral  improvement.  To  those 
~ 1  would  say,  Do  you  never  feel  unquiet  in  spirit,  restless,  or 
sad  ?  Do  you  never  experience  a  secret  uneasiness  of  heart, 
of  which  you  do  not  know  the  exact  cause,  but  winch  de- 
stroys, or  at  least  disturbs  your  peace  ?  If  you  do,  take  this 
course.  Instead  of  flying  from  those  feelings  when  they 
come  into  your  heart,  advance  boldly  to  meet  them.  Grasp 
and  examine  them.  Find  their  cause.  You  will  find,  in  nine 
cases  out  of  ten,  that  their  cause  is  something  icrong  in 
your  own  conduct  or  character.  Young  persons  will  genei 
ally  find  something  wrong  towards  their  parents.  Now  go 
and  confess  these  faults.  Do  not  endeavor  to  palliate  or 
excuse  them,  but  endeavor,  on  the  contrary,  to  see  their 
worst  side ;  and  if  you  confess  them  freely  and  fully,  trust- 
ing in  the  merits  of  Christ  for  forgiveness  from  God,  and 
resolving  to  sin  no  more,  peace  will  return. 

After  I  had  written  thus  far,  I  read  these  pages  to  a 
gentleman  who  visited  me,  and  he  remarked,  that  before  I. 
closed  the  chapter  I  ought  to  caution  my  readers  against  ac- 
quiring the  habit  of  doing  wrong  and  then  coming  carelessly 
to  confess  it  without  any  real  sorrow,  as  though  the  acknow- 
ledgment atoned  for  the  sin,  and  wiped  all  the  guilt  away. 

"  I  was  once,"  said  he,  "  visiting  in  a  family,  and  while 
we  were  sitting  at  the  fire,  a  little  boy  came  in  and  did 
some  wanton,  wilful  mischief. 

"  '  Why,  my  child,'  said  the  mother,  '  see  what  you  have 
done.  That  was  very  wrong ;  but  you  are  sorry  for  it,  I 
suppose.     Are  you  not  ?" 


CONFESSION  OF   SIN.  25 

11 ■  Yes,  ma,'  said  the  boy  carelessly,  running  away  at  the 
same  time  to  play. 

"  '  Yes,'  said  the  mother,  '  he  is  sorry.  He  does  wrong 
sometimes,  but  then  he  is  always  sorry  for  it,  and  acknow- 
ledges it.     You  are  sorry  now  ;  are  you  not,  my  son  ?' 

"  '  Yes,  ma,'  said  the  boy,  as  he  ran  capering  about  the 
room,  striking  the  furniture  and  his  little  sister  with  his 
whip." 

My  friend  thought  there  was  some  danger  that  this  sort 
of  confession  might  be  made.  And  it  is  undoubtedly  often 
made.  But  it  does  no  good.  Confession  must  come  from 
the  heart,  or  it  will  not  relieve  or  improve  the  heart. 

This  anecdote  shows  the  necessity  of  some  punishment 
in  all  governments.  If  a  father  forgives  the  disobedience  of 
his  children  simply  upon  their  confessing  it — I  mean,  if  he 
makes  this  his  settled  and  regular  course — his  children  will 
often  disobey,  expecting  to  make  peace  by  confession  as  a 
matter  of  course  :  and  the  confession  will  thus  not  only  be- 
come  a  useless  form,  but  will  become  the  very  lure  which 
tempts  them  to  sin. 

A  teacher  once  made  a  rule,  that  if  any  irregularity  oc- 
curred in  any  of  the  classes,  the  assistant  who  heard  the  class 
was  to  send  the  person  in  fault  to  him.  At  first  the  pupils 
felt  this  very  much.  One  and  another  would  come  with 
tears  in  their  eyes  to  acknowledge  some  fault,  although  it 
was  perhaps  only  a  very  slight  one.  The  teacher  inflicted  no 
punishment,  but  asked  them  to  be  careful  in  future,  and  sent 
them  away  kindly.  Soon,  however,  they  began  to  feel  less 
penitent  when  they  had  done  wrong.  They  came  more  and 
more  as  a  matter  of  form,  until  at  last  they  would  come  and 
state  their  fault  as  carelessly  as  if  they  were  merely  giving 
their  teacher  a  piece  of  indifferent  information.  No  ;  con- 
fession must  never  be  understood  as  making  any  atonement 
for  sin.  Whenever  you  acknowledge  that  you  have  done 
wrong,  do  it  with  sincere  penitence,  looking  to  Christ  for 

Y.  Chriitisn.  2 


26  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

pardon — ready  to  make  all  the  reparation  in  your  power,  if 
it  is  a  case  which  admits  of  reparation — to  submit  to  the 
just  punishment,  if  any  is  inflicted — and  always  resolving 
most  firmly,  that  by  the  aid  of  divine  grace,  you  will  sin 
no  more. 

Let  all  my  readers,  then,  whether  old  or  young,  look  at 
once  around  them,  and  seek  diligently  for  every  thing  wrong 
winch  they  have  done  towards  their  fellows,  and  try  the 
experiment  of  acknowledging  the  wrong  hi  every  case,  that 
they  may  see  how  much  such  a  course  will  bring  peace  and 
happiness  to  their  hearts.  "When,  however,  I  say  that  every 
thins  wrong  ou^ht  to  be  acknowledged,  I  do  not  mean  that 

coo  *-- 

it  is,  in  every  case,  necessary  to  make  a  formal  confession  in 
language.  Acknowledgments  may  be  made  by  actions  as 
distinctly  and  as  cordially  as  by  wards.  An  example  will 
best  illustrate  this. 

A  journeyman  in  a  carpenter's  shop  borrowed  a  plane  of 
his  comrade,  and  in  giving  it  back  to  him,  it  was  acciden- 
tally dropped  and  dulled.  The  lender  maintained  that  the 
borrower  ought  to  sharpen  it,  while  the  borrower  said  that 
it  was  not  his  fault,  and  an  angry  controversy  arose  between 
them.  It  would  have  taken  but  a  few  minutes  to  have 
sharpened  the  instrument,  but  after  having  once  contended 
about  it,  each  was  determined  not  to  yield.  The  plane  was 
laid  down  in  its  damaged  state,  each  declaring  that  he  would 
not  sharpen  it. 

The  borrower  however  did  not  feel  easy,  and  as  he  lay 
down  that  night  to  rest,  the  thought  of  his  foolish  contention 
made  him  unhappy.  He  reflected  too,  that  since  his  friend 
had  been  willing  to  lend  him  his  instrument,  he  ought  to 
have  borne  himself  all  the  risk  of  its  return.  He  regretted 
that  he  had  refused  to  do  what  now,  on  cool  reflection,  he 
saw  was  clearly  his  duty. 

On  the  following  morning,  therefore,  he  went  half  an  hour 
earlier  than  usual  to  the  shop,  and  while  alone  there,  with 


CONFESSION  OF  SIN.  27 

the  help  of  grindstone  and  hone,  he  put  the  unfortunate  plane 
in  the  best  possible  order,  laid  it  hi  its  proper  place,  and  when 
his  companion  came  in,  said  to  him  pleasantly, 

"  I  wish  you  would  try  your  plane,  and  see  how  it  cuts 
this  morning." 

Now  was  not  this  a  most  full  and  complete  acknowledg- 
ment of  having  been  wrong  ?  And  yet  there  is  not  a  sylla- 
ble of  confession  in  language.  Any  way  by  which  you  can 
openly  manifest  your  conviction  that  you  have  done  wrong, 
and  your  determination  to  do  so  no  more,  is  sufficient.  The 
mode  best  for  the  purpose  will  vary  with  circumstances : 
sometimes  by  words,  sometimes  by  writing,  and  sometimes 
by  action.  The  only  thing  that  is  essential  is,  that  the 
heart  should  feel  what  in  these  various  ways  it  attempts  to 
express. 

I  doubt  not  now,  but  that  many  of  my  readers  who  have 
taken  up  this  book  with  a  desire  to  find  religious  instruction 
in  it,  have  been  for  some  time  wishing  to  have  me  come  to 
the  subject  of  the  confession  of  sin  to  God.  His  Spirit  has 
convinced  you  of  sin,  of  righteousness,  and  of  a  judgment  to 
come.  You  feel  that  you  are  a  sinner  against  God ;  that 
the  greatest  of  all  your  transgressions  have  been  against  him, 
and  that  your  heart  and  life  are  full  of  guilt,  so  that  you 
deserve  to  be  eternally  banished  from  his  favor.  You  feel  the 
keenest  sorrow  at  the  thought  of  the  ineffable  goodness  and 
excellence  of  Him  against  whom  you  have  sinned,  and  you 
cannot  rest  till  you  receive  his  gracious  forgiveness. 

It  matters  little  by  what  means  your  mind  has  been  led 
to  this  point.  Perhaps  it  was  a  sense  of  the  unhajopiness 
which  guilt  brings  upon  the  heart,  as  in  the  case  above  sup- 
posed, that  first  put  you  upon  thinking  of  the  evil  nature  of 
sin,  so  that  now  you  turn  from  it  with  abhorrence,  and  desire 
above  all  things  to  be  free  from  it.  Perhaps.  it_  was  a  terror 
of  the  wrath  to  come  that  first  aroused  you.  Or  it  may  be, 
that  in  the  fulness  of  your  joy  at  receiving  some  great  and 


V 


28  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

unexpected  blessing  in  life,  God  led  you  to  reflect  with  new 
emotions  on  the  number  and  magnitude  of  his  gifts,  and  your 
own  unworthiness  ;  and  thus  the  goodness  of  God  has  led 
you  to  repentance.  Or,  as  you  mingled  with  the  people  of 
God  in  the  house  of  prayer,  he  blessed  you  with  such  a  view 
of  the  glorious  beauty  of  his  holiness,  as  carried  you  captive 
with  delight  and  love,  and  at  the  same  time  made  you  abhor 
yourself,  and  repent  in  dust  and  ashes.  The  Spirit  of  God 
has  many  ways  of  bringing  the  soul  to  the  footstool  of  mercy, 
a  sincere  penitent ;  but  in  some  way  or  other  he  must  do  it, 
or  we  are  lost.  The  Bible  addresses  every  man  as  a  guilty 
wanderer  from  God,  ready  to  perish ;  and  even  a  child  can 
see  that  we  can  never  be  in  a  right  state,  and  of  course  not 
in  a  safe  or  happy  state,  without  a  penitent  and  thorough 
forsaking  of  sin.  This  penitence,  if  true,  will  spring  not  so 
much  from  a  sense  of  the  ill  consequences  of  sin,  as  from  a 
view  of  the  goodness  and  holiness  of  our  heavenly  Father, 
and  the  manifold  guilt  of  sin  against  him. 

I  have  no  doubt  that  this  is  the  state  of  mind  of  many  of 
those  who  will  read  this  chapter ;  and  the  question,  "  How 
shall  I  find  the  way  to  my  heavenly  Father?"  is  one  in 
which  you  feel  a  deep  concern.  The  answer  to  this  inquiry 
is,  return,  like  the  prodigal  son,  with  penitent,  broken-hearted 
confession :  "  Father,  I  have  sinned  against  heaven  and  in 
thy  sight,  and  am  not  worthy  to  be  called  thy  son."  Con- 
fession of  sin  is  the  same  in  its  nature  and  tendency  when 
made  to  God  as  when  made  to  your  fellow-man.  "When  you 
have  finished  this  chapter,  then,  shut  the  book,  go  alone  be- 
fore your  Maker,  and  search  out,  reflect  upon,  and  penitently 
acknowledge  all  your  sins.  Acknowledge  them  frankly  and 
fully,  and  try  to  see  and  feel  the  worst,  not  by  merely  calling 
your  offences  by  harsh  names,  but  by  calmly  looking  at  the 
aggravating  circumstances.  While  you  do  this,  do  not  spend 
your  strength  in  trying  to  feel  strong  emotion.  You  cannot 
feel  emotion  by  merely  trying  to  feel  it.     There  is  no  neces- 


CONFESSION  ©F  SIN.  29 

sity  of  prolonged  terror,  no  need  of  agony  of  body  or  of  mind, 
no  need  of  gloom  of  countenance.  Go,  and  sincerely  ac- 
knoiuledge  your  sins  to  God,  praying  him  to  forgive  you 
through  the  death  and  merits  of  Christ. 

But  perhaps  some  of  you  will  say,  "  I  am  surprised  to 
hear  you  say,  that  there  is  no  need  of  strong  agitation  of 
mind,  before  we  can  be  forgiven  for  sin.  I  am  sure  that 
there  often  is  very  strong  feeling  of  this  kind.  There  is  terror 
and  agony  of  mind,  and  afterwards  the  individual  becomes  a 
sincere  Christian." 

It  is  true,  there  is  sometimes  strong  and  continued  asrita- 

7  O  O 

tion ;  nor  is  any  possible  degree  of  distressing  fear,  self-re- 
proach, or  sorrow  unreasonable  in  one  who  has  been  brought 
to  realize  that  he  is  so  guilty  as  to  be  worthy  only  of  hell, 
and  that  he  can  be  saved  from  it  by  nothing  less  than  the 
precious  blood  of  Christ.  Such  agonizing  emotions,  however, 
are  not  requisite  to  sincere  penitence,  and  can  do  nothing 
towards  atoning  for  sin.  The  amazing  change  by  which  a 
sinner  passes  from  death  to  life,  is  often  wrought  with  a  gen- 
tleness peculiar  to  omnipotent  grace ;  and  the  soul  is  scarcely 
conscious  of  fear  or  remorse,  in  the  fulness  of  love,  joy,  and 
gratitude  with  which  it  hastens  to  Christ. 

There  is  often,  however,  a  continued  distress  of  a  very 
different  kind :  not  the  sorrow  of  humble,  broken-hearted 
penitents  grieving  over  their  sins,  but  the  struggle  of  impen- 
itent souls  convicted  of  their  guilt,  yet  unwilling  to  yield  to 
God  and  confess  their  sins  to  him.  As  soon  as  this  unwill- 
ingness is  gone,  and  they  come  to  their  God  and  Saviour 
with  all  their  hearts,  the  mental  suffering  vanishes.  I  said, 
that  if  you  were  willing  now  to  confess  your  sins  to  God  with 
sincere  penitence,  you  might  at  once  be  happy.  Of  course, 
if  you  are  unwilling,  if  you  see  that  you  are  sinning  against 
him,  and  will  not  come  and  make  peace,  you  then  have 
indeed  cause  to  tremble. 

The  truth  is,  that  God  commands  "  men  everywhere  to 


30  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

repent."  It  is  a  notorious  fact,  that  multitudes  will  not 
comply.  When  the  duty  of  humbly  confessing  their  sins  to 
God  is  clearly  brought  before  them,  there  is  often  so  great  a 
desire  to  continue  in  sin,  that  a  very  pahiful  struggle  contin- 
ues for  some  time.  Now  this  struggle  is  all  our  own  fault ; 
it  is  something  that  we  add  altogether  ;  and  it  is  displeas^ 
ing  to  God.  He  says,  come  to  me  at  once.  Ministers  of  the 
gospel  do  not  urge  this  continued  struggle,  while  sin  is  cher- 
ished in  the  heart :  so  far  from  desiring  it  are  they,  that  they 
urge  their  hearers  to  repent  and  come  at  once  to  the  Saviour, 
and  be  happy  ;  and  when  any  of  their  hearers  are  suffering 
in  consequence  of  indecision,  the  pastor,  so  far  from  wishing 
them  to  continue  in  this  state,  urges  them  with  all  his  power 
to  terminate  it  at  once,  by  giving  up  their  hearts  to  God  and 
to  happiness.  And  yet,  so  reluctant  are  men  to  give  their 
hearts  to  God,  and  so  exceedingly  common  is  this  guilty 
struggle,  that  by  the  young  it  is  often  considered  as  a  painful 
part  of  duty.  They  confound  it  with  a  just  and  needful 
sorrow  for  sin,  and  think  they  cannot  become  Christians 
without  it.  Some  try  to  awaken  it  and  continue  it,  and  are 
sad  because  they  cannot  succeed.  Others,  who  are  serving 
their  Maker,  and  endeavoring  to  grow  hi  grace  and  to  pre- 
pare for  heaven,  feel  but  little  confidence  in  his  sympathy  or 
affection  for  them,  because  just  before  they  found  peace  with 
God,  sin  did  not  make  such  violent  and  desperate  efforts  in 
their  hearts  as  in  some  others,  to  retain  its  hold. 

No,  my  reader,  there  is  no  necessity  of  any  prolonged 
struggle  or  suffering.  If  the  Spirit  of  God  has  led  you  sin- 
cerely to  deplore  your  sins,  you  may  confess  them  now,  and 
from  this  moment  be  calm  and  peaceful  and  happy. 

My  readers  will  recollect  that  I  mentioned,  in  the  early 
part  of  this  chapter,  two  points  connected  with  confession, 
namely,  reparation  and  punishment.  In  confessing  sins  to 
God,  we  have  no  reparation  to  make  to  him,  and  no  punish- 
ment to  suffer.     We  have  a  Saviour,  and  we  fly  to  him. 


CONFESSION  OF  SIN.  31 

We  have  destroyed  ourselves  by  sin,  and  we  cannot  be  saved 
but  by  the  unmerited  grace  of  God  as  displayed  in  the  aton- 
ing sacrifice  of  our  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  "  Him  hath  God  set 
forth  as  a  propitiation,  through  faith  in  his  blood,  to  declare 
his  righteousness :  that  he  might  be  just,  and  the  justifler  of 
him  that  believeth  in  Jesus."  Rom.  3  :  20—26.  There  is 
no  other  way  of  salvation.  IsTo  obedience  or  suffering  of  ours 
can  atone  for  transgression.  Christ  has  suffered  for  us,  and 
will  save  us  if  we  go  to  him.  I  hope  very  many  of  my 
readers  will  see  that  both  duty  and  happiness  urge  them  to 
take  the  simple  course  I  have  endeavored  to  describe  and 
illustrate,  and  that  they  will  now  be  led  to  take  it,  and  fol- 
low me  through  the  remaining  chapters  of  this  book  with 
hearts  bent  on  loving  and  serving  God. 


32  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 


CHAPTER    II. 

THE   FRIEND. 
"  To  whom  shall  we  go  ?" 

There  is  a  very  excellent  infant-school  in  one  of  the 
chief  towns  of  Switzerland,  where  many  young  children  are 
collected  under  the  care  of  a  most  kind  and  faithful  superin- 
tendent, to  receive  moral  and  intellectual  instruction.  When 
a  new  pupil  is  admitted,  she  looks  with  fear  and  trembling 
upon  the  strange  scene  before  her.  A  large  open  room  is 
filled  with  the  children  standing  in  rows  or  collected  in  busy 
groups,  and  in  the  pleasant  play-ground,  verdant  with  grass 
and  trees,  many  others  are  seen  full  of  activity  and  hap- 
piness. 

It  is  the  custom,  whenever  a  new  scholar  enters  the 
school,  for  the  teacher  to  collect  all  the  children  in  the  great 
room,  extending  them  in -a  line  around  it ;  and  then  he  walks 
into  the  midst,  leading  the  little  stranger  by  the  hand,  and 
something  like  the  following  conversation  ensues. 

Teacher.  "  Here  is  a  little  girl  who  has  come  to  join 
our  school.  She  is  a  stranger,  and  is  afraid.  Will  you  all 
promise  to  treat  her  kindly  ?" 

Pupils.     All  answering  together.     "  Yes,  sir,  we  will." 

Teacher.  "She  has  told  me  that  she  will  try  to  be  a 
good  girl  and  to  do  her  duty,  but  sometimes  she  will  forget, 
I  am  afraid,  and  sometimes  she  will  yield  to  temptation 
and  do  Avrong.  Isow  which  of  the  older  children  will  be 
her  little  friend,  to  be  with  her  for  a  few  days  till  she 
becomes  acquainted  with  the  school,  and  tell  her  what  she 
ought  to  do,  and  help  her  to  watch  herself,  that  she  mav 
avoid  doing  wrong?" 

Several  voices  at  once  :  "I  will,  I  will,  sir." 


THE   FRIEND.  33 

The  teacher  then  selects  from  those  who  thus  volunteer, 
one  of  the  best  and  oldest  children,  and  constitutes  her  the 
friend  and  protector  of  the  stranger.  They  are  together 
wherever  they  go.  A  strong  mutual  attachment  springs  up 
between  them.  If  the  stranger  is  injured  in  any  way,  the 
protector  feels  aggrieved  :  kindness  shown  to  one  touches 
almost  as  effectually  the  other,  and  thus  the  trembling 
stranger  is  guided  and  encouraged,  and  led  on  to  duty  and  to 
strength  by  the  influence  of  her  protector,  though  that  pro- 
tector is  only  another  child. 

"We  all  need  a  protector,  especially  in  our  moral  interests. 
The  human  heart  seems  to  be  formed  to  lean  upon  something 
stronger  than  itself  for  support.  We  are  so  surrounded  with 
difficulties  and  temptations  and  dangers  here,  that  we  need 
a  refuge  in  which  we  can  trust.  Children  find  such  a  pro- 
tector and  such  a  refuge  in  their  parents.  How  much  safer 
you  feel  in  sickness,  if  your  father  or  your  mother  is  by  your 
bedside.  How  often,  in  a  summer  evening,  when  a  dark 
heavy  cloud  is  thundering  in  the  sky,  and  the  window  glit- 
ters with  the  brightness  of  the  lightning,  do  the  children  of 
a  family  sigh  for  their  father's  return,  and  feel  relieved  and 
almost  safe  when  he  comes  among  them.  But  when  man  is 
mature  he  can  find  no  earthly  protector.  He  must  go  alone, 
unless  he  has  a  friend  above.  We  should  have  needed  such 
a  friend  even  if  we  were  not  a  fallen  race ;  but  now,  the 
true  friend  of  man  must  be  the  sinner  s  friend.  We  are  all, 
young  and  old,  in  perishing  need  of  one  who  can  deliver  us 
from  the  dreadful  penalty  of  sin,  and  extricate  us  from  its 
fatal  dominion. 

We  should  wish  a  protector  and  friend  to  possess  two 
distinct  qualifications,  which  it  is  very  difficult  to  find  unit- 
ed :  that  he  should  be  our  superior  both  in  knowledge  and 
power,  so  that  we  can  confide  in  his  protection  ;  and  yet 
lave  been  in  the  same  circumstances  with  ourselves^  that 
he  may  understand  and  appreciate  our  necessities. 

2* 


Q 


4  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 


Now  my  object  in  this  chapter  is,  to  endeavor  to  show 
my  readers  that  they  need,  and  that  they  can  have,  for  their 
safe  guidance  through  life,  just  such  ajprotector  andjriend — 
one  that  has  power  to  save  to  the  uttermost,  and  yet  one 
that  knows  by  his  own  experience  all  your  trials  and  cares. 
I  know  that  if  any  of  you  go  and  confess  your  sins  to  God, 
and  begin  a  life  of  piety  now,  yet  you  will,  without  aid  from 
above,  wander  away  into  sin,  forget  your  resolutions,  dis- 
please God  more  than  ever,  and  more  than  ever  destroy  your 
own  peace  of  mind.  I  wish,  therefore,  to  persuade  all  those 
who  desire  to  be  delivered  from  sin  and  death,  and  henceforth 
to  love  and  serve  God,  to  come  now  and  unite  themselves 
in  indissoluble  bonds  with  the  moral  Protector  and  Friend 
whose  character  I  am  about  to  describe. 

In  the  epistle  to  the  Hebrews,  second  chapter  and  six- 
teenth verse,  there  occurs  the  following  remarkable  pas- 
sage:  "For  verily  he,"  that  is,  Christ,  "took  not  on  him  the 
nature  of  angels  ;  but  he  took  on  him  the  seed  of  Abraham. 
Wherefore  in  all  things  it  behooved  him  to  be  made  like  unto 
his  brethren,  that  he  might  be  a  merciful  and  faithful  High- 
priest  in  things  pertaining  to  God."  Here  you  see  how 
the  two  qualifications  named  above  were  united  in  our  Sav- 
iour. He  might  have  come  from  heaven  and  died  upon 
the  cross  to  make  atonement  for  our  sins,  without  surTerms 
as  he  did  so  long  a  pilgrimage  below,  as  a  "  man  of  sor- 
rows, and  acquainted  with  grief"  But  he  came  and  lived 
here  thirty  years,  tasted  of  every  bitter  cup  which  we 
have  to  drink,  and  thus  knows  by  experience  all  our  trials 
and  troubles,  and  is  able  more  effectually  to  sympathize 
with  us  and  help  us.  He  took  notion  him  the  nature  of 
yy/^  angels,  but  he  took  on  him  the  seed  of  Abraham,  that  is, 
the  nature  of . man. 

I  wish  my  readers  would  pause,  and  reflect  a  moment 
upon  these  two  elements  in  the  character  of  a  valuable  pro- 
tector, namely,  ixnver   and   sympathy,  and   consider  how 


THE  FRIEND.  35 

seldom  they  are  united.     I  -will  give  one  or  two  examples 
which  may  help  to  illustrate  the  subject. 

A  mother  with  a  large  family,  and  but  slender  means 
to  provide  for  their  wants,  concluded  to  send  her  eldest  son 
to  sea.  She  knew  that  though  the  toils  and  labors  of  a  sea- 
faring life  were  extreme,  they  could  be  borne,  and  they 
brought  with  them  many  pleasures  and  many  useful  results. 
She  agreed,  therefore,  with  a  sea-captain,  a  distant  relative 
of  hers,  to  admit  her  boy  on  board  his  ship.  The  captain 
became  really  interested  in  his  new  friend — said  he  would 
take  good  care  of  him,  teach  him  his  duty  on  shipboard,  and 
help  him  on  in  the  world,  if  he  was  diligent  and  faithful. 

The  boy  looked  with  some  dread  upon  the  prospect  of 
bidding  farewell  to  his  mother,  to  his  brothers  and  sisters, 
and  his  quiet  home,  to  explore  unknown  and  untried  scenes, 
and  to  encounter  the  dangers  of  a  stormy  ocean.  He  how- 
ever bade  all  farewell,  and  was  soon  tossing  upon  the  waters, 
feeling  safe  under  his  new  protector.  He  soon  found,  how- 
ever, that  the  captain  had  'power,  but  that  he  had  not  sym- 
pathy. He  would  sometimes,  in  a  stormy  night,  when  the 
masts  were  reeling  to  and  fro,  and  the  bleak  wind  was 
whistling  through  the  frozen  rigging,  make  him  go  aloft, 
though  the  poor  boy,  unaccustomed  to  the  giddy  height,  was 
in  an  agony  of  terror,  and  in  real  danger  of  falling  headlong 
to  the  deck.  The  captahi  had  forgotten  what  were  his  own 
feelings  when  he  was  himself  a  boy,  or  he  would  probably 
have  taught  this  necessary  part  of  seamanship  in  a  more 
gentle  and  gradual  manner.  He  thought  the  boy  ought  to 
learn,  and  his  want  of  sympathy  with  his  feelings  led  him 
to  a  course  which  was  severe,  and  in  fact  cruel,  though  not 
intentionally  so. 

The  captahi  never  spoke  to  his  young  charge,  except  to 
command  him.  He  took  no  interest  in  his  little  concerns. 
Once  the  boy  spent  all  his  leisure  time  industriously  in  rigging 
out  a  little  ship  complete.     "  This,"  thought  he,  "will  please 


36  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

the  captain.  He  wants  me  to  learn,  and  this  will  show 
him  that  1  have  been  learning."  As  he  went  on,  however, 
from  day  to  day,  the  captain  took  no  notice  of  his  work. 
A  word  or  a  look  of  satisfaction  from  his  protector  would 
have  gratified  him  exceedingly.  But  no,  the  stern  weather- 
beaten  officer  could  not  sympathize  with  a  child,  or  appreci- 
ate his  feelings  at  all ;  and  one  day  when  the  boy  had  been 
sent  away  from  his  work  for  a  moment,  the  captain  came 
upon  deck,  and  after  looking  around  a  moment,  he  said  to  a 
rough-looking  man  standing  there,  "  I  say,  Jack,  I  wish  you 
would  clear  away  a  little  here  :  coil  those  lines — and  that 
boy's  bauble  there,  you  may  as  well  throw  it  overboard  ;  he 
never  will  make  any  thing  of  it." 

Commands  on  board  ship  must  be  obeyed ;  and  the  poor 
cabin-boy  came  up  from  below  just  in  time  to  catch  the 
captain's  words,  and  to  see  his  little  ship  fly  from  the 
sailor's  hands  into  the  waves.  It  fell  upon  its  side — its 
sails  were  drenched  with  the  water,  and  it  fast  receded 
from  view.  The  boy  went  to  his  hammock  and  wept  bit- 
terly. His  heart  was  wounded  deeply,  but  the  stern  cap- 
tain did  not  know  it.  How  could  he  sympathize  with  the 
feelings  of  a  child  ? 

And  yet  this  captain  was  the  real  friend  of  the  boy.  He 
protected  hirn  in  all  great  dangers,  took  great  care  of  him 
when  in  foreign  ports,  that  he  should  not  be  exposed  to  sick- 
ness nor  to  temptation.  When  they  returned  home  he  rec- 
ommended him  to  another  ship,  where,  through  the  captain's 
influence,  he  had  a  better  situation  and  higher  wages,  and 
he  assisted  him  in  various  ways  for  many  years.  Nov/  this 
boy  had  a  protector  who  had  powe?'  but  not  sympathy. 

This  boy,  however,  might  have  had  a  friend  who  would 
have  sympathized  with  him  fully,  but  who  would  have  had 
no  power.  I  might  illustrate  this  case  also  by  supposing, 
in  the  next  ship  which  he  should  enter,  that  the  captain 
should  feci  no  interest  in  him  at  all,  but  that  he  should  have 


18ft 


*JF 


SltY, 

THE  FRIEND.  37 

with  him  there  a  brother,  or  another  hoy  of  his  own  age, 
who  would  be  his  constant  companion  and  friend,  entering 
into  all  his  feelings,  sympathizing  with  him  in  his  enjoy- 
ments and  in  his  troubles,  but  yet  having  no  power  to  pro- 
tect him  from  real  evils,  or  to  avert  any  dangers  which 
might  threaten.  I  might  suppose  such  a  case,  and  following 
the  boy  in  imagination  into  the  new  scene,  I  might  show 
that  sympathy  alone  is  not  sufficient.  But  it  is  not  neces- 
sary to  do  this.  All  my  readers,  doubtless,  already  fully 
understand  the  distinction  between  these  two,  and  the  neces- 
sity that  they  should  be  united  in  such  a  protector  as  we 
all  need. 

The  great  Friend  of  sinners  unites  these.  He  is  "  able 
to  save  to  the  uttermost  all  that  come  unto  God  through 
him,"  for  "  he  ever  liveth  to  make  intercession  for  us  ;"  and 
he  can  fully  sympathize  with  us  in  all  our  trials  and  cares, 
for  he  has  been  upon  the  earth,  suffering  all  that  we  have 
to  suffer,  and  drinking  of  every  cup  which  is  presented  to 
our  lips.  He  became  flesh,  that  is,  he  became  a  man,  and 
dwelt  among  us ;  so  that,  as  the  Bible  most  forcibly  and 
beautifully  expresses  it,  "  we  have  not  a  high-priest  which 
cannot  be  touched  with  a  feeling  of  our  infirmities  ;  but  was 
in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we  are,  yet  without  sin." 

It  must  be  borne  in  mind,  that  our  Saviour  did  not  com- 
mence his  public  ministrations  till  he  was  thirty  years  of 
age.  Thirty  years  he  dwelt  among  us,  learning,  in  his  own 
slow  and  painful  experience,  what  it  is  to  be  a  human  being 
in  this  world  of  trial.  Have  I  a  reader  who  is  only  ten  or 
twelve  years  of  age  ?  Remember,  the  Saviour  was  once  as 
young  as  you — exposed  to  such  little  difficulties  and  trials 
as  you  are.  He  has  gone  through  the  whole,  from  infancy 
upward,  and  he  does  not  forget.  You  may  be  sure,  then, 
that  he  is  ready  to  sympathize  with  you.  If  any  thing  is 
great  enough  to  interest  you,  you  may  be  sure  it  is  great 
enough  to  interest  him  in  your  behalf.     He  remembers  his 


•-1 


8  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 


own  childhood,  and  will  sympathize  with   the  feelings  of 
yours. 

This  plan  of  coming  into  our  world  and  becoming  one  of 
us,  and  remaining  in  obscurity  so  long,  that  he  might  learn 
by  experiment  what  the  human  condition  is,  in  all  its  details, 
was  certainly  a  very  extraordinary  one.  It  is  spoken  of  as 
very  extraordinary  everywhere  in  the  Bible. 

You  have  all  heard  of  Howard  the  philanthropist.  When 
he  was  thirty  or  forty  years  of  age,  there  were,  everywhere 
in  Europe,  jails  and  dungeons  filled  with  wretched  prisoners, 
some  of  whom  were  guilty  and  some  innocent.  They  were 
crowded  together  in  small,  cold,  damp  rooms.  Their  food 
was  scanty  and  bad — dreadful  diseases  broke  out  among 
them ;  and  when  this  was  the  case  they  were,  in  a  vast 
multitude  of  cases,  left  to  suffer  and  to  die  in  unmitigated 
agony.  Yery  few  knew  their  condition,  and  there  were  none 
to  pity  or  relieve  them,  until  Howard  undertook  the  task. 
He  left  his  home  in  England  and  went  forth,  encountering 
every  difficulty  and  every  discouragement,  until  he  had 
explored  thoroughly  this  mass  of  misery  and  brought  it  to 
public  view,  and  had  done  every  thing  he  could  to  mitigate 
its  severity. 

This  was  extraordinary  enough,  and  it  attracted  univer- 
sal attention.  All  Europe  was  surprised  that  a  man  should 
devote  years  of  life  to  a  most  arduous  and  hazardous  labor, 
exposing  himself  to  the  most  loathsome  influences  and  to 
the  worst  diseases,  without  any  prospect  of  remuneration, 
and  all  for  the  sole  purpose  of  relieving  the  sufferings  of 
criminals, — of  men  whom  the  world  had  cast  off  as  unfit 
for  human  society.  It  was,  I  acknowledge,  extraordinary ; 
but  what  would  have  been  the  sensation  produced,  if  How- 
ard could  not  have  gained  admission  to  these  scenes,  so  as 
effectually  to  accomplish  his  object,  without  becoming  him- 
self a  prisoner,  and  thus  sharing  for  a  time  the  fate  of  those 
whom   he  was  endeavoring  to  save  ?     Suppose  he  should 


THE  FRIEND.  39 

consent  to  this.  Imagine  him  approaching  for  this  purpose 
some  dreary  prison.  He  passes  its  dismal  threshold,  and 
the  bolts  and  bars  of  the  gloomiest  dungeon  are  turned  upon 
him.  He  lays  aside  the  comfortable  dress  of  the  citizen  for 
the  many-colored  garb  of  confinement  and  disgrace.  He 
holds  out  his  arm  for  the  manacles,  and  lies  down  at  night 
upon  his  bed  of  straw,  and  lingers  away  months,  or  perhaps 
years  of  wretchedness,  for  no  other  purpose  than  that  he 
may  know  fully  what  icretchedness  is.  He  thus  looks 
misery  in  the  face,  and  takes  it  by  the  hand,  and  he  emerges 
at  last  from  his  cell,  emaciated  by  disease,  worn  out  by  the 
gloom  of  perpetual  night,  and  his  heart  sickened  by  the 
atmosphere  of  sin  and  shame.  Suppose  he  had  done  this, 
how  strongly  could  he,  after  it,  sympathize  with  the  suffer- 
ings of  a  prisoner,  and  how  cordially  and  with  what  confi- 
dence could  the  inmates  of  those  abodes  come  to  him  with 
their  story  of  woe. 

j£ow^we_have  such  a  Saviour  as  this,  though  all  com- 
parisons fail  fully  to  illustrate  what  he  has  done  and  suffered 
for  us.    He  has  been  among  us.    He  has  himself  experienced 
every  kind  of  trial  and  suffering  which  we  have  to  endure. 
So  that  if  we  choose  him  for  our  friend,  we  may  come  to 
him  on  every  occasion,  sure  of  finding  not  only  power  to 
relieve  us,  but  sympathy  to  feel  for  us.     No  matter  what 
may  be  the  source  of  our  trial,  whether  great  or  small,  ii 
it  is  great  enough  to  interest  us,  it  is  great  enough  to  interest 
him  for  us.     Perhaps  some  young  child  who  reads  this  has 
been  pained  to  the  heart  by  the  unkindness  of  some  one  in 
whom  he  had  reposed  all  his  confidence.     The  action  which 
showed  this  neglect  or  unkindness  was  so  trifling,  that  per- 
haps the  little  sufferer  feels  that  no  one  can  sympathize 
with  him  hi  apparently  so  small  a  cause  of  sorrow.     But 
Jesus  Christ  was  once  as  young  a  child  as  you  ;  he  too, 
doubtless,  had  companions  and  friends,  and  if  he  did  not 
experience  unkindness  and  ingratitude  at  their  hands,  child- 


40  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

hood  was  the  only  time  of  his  life  in  which  he  was  free  frcna 
these  injuries.  He,  doubtless,  knows  them  full  well;  and 
there  is  one  thing  in  which  the  sympathy  of  our  Savioul 
differs  from  that  of  every  other  friend — he  judges  not  from 
the  magnitude  of  the  cause  of  sorrow,  but  from  the  real 
effect  of  that  cause  upon  the  heart  which  suffers  it.  ILa 
child  is  agitated  by  a  trifling  cause,  he  looks  at  the  greatness 
of  the  agitation  and  suffering,  not  at  the  insignificance  ol 
the  cause.  But  it  is  not  so  with  men ;  they  judge  from 
external  circumstances. 

In  all  the  greater  trials  of  life,  I  mean  those  which  come 
from  greater  and  more  permanent  causes,  we  may  confi- 
dently expect  sympathy  and  fellow-feeling  if  we  come  to  the 
Saviour.  JDoe.s_,poverty  threaten  you?  He  knows  what 
poverty  is  better  than  you ;  for  years,  he  knew  not  where 
to  lay  his  head.  Do  you  suffer  from  the  unkind  treatment 
of  others  ?  He  has  tried  this  in  the  extreme,  and  can  fully 
sympathize  with  you.  Do  you  weep  over  the  grave  of  a 
beloved  friend?  Jesus  wept  from  this  cause  long  before 
vou.  In  fact,  he  went -about  the  world  not  only  to  do  good, 
but  to  taste  of  suffering,  and  fully  knows,  with  all  the 
vividness  of  experience,  exactly  what  suffering  in  all  its 
variety  is. 

AYe  all  love  sympathy  when  we  are  suffering,  but  there 
is  one  occasion  on  which  we  feel  the  need  of  it  still  more — I 
mean  in  temptation.  We  need  sympathy  when  we  are 
struggling  with  temptation,  and  still  more  when  we  have 
done  wrong,  and  are  reaping  its  bitter  fruits.  A  dreadful 
murder  was  once  committed,  which  aroused  the  alarm  and 
indignation  of  an  extensive  community  ;  every  one  expressed 
the  strongest  abhorrence  of  the  deed,  and  great  efforts  were 
made  to  procure  the  arrest  and  punishment  of  the  criminal. 
And  this  was  right.  But  with  this  feeling  there  should  have 
been,  in  every  heart,  strong  compassion  for  the  miserable 
criminal. 


THE  FRIEND.  41 

He  was  arrested,  tried,  and  condemned  to  die  ;  and  a  few 
hours  before  the  execution  of  the  sentence,  I  went  with  a 
clergyman  who  often  visited  him,  to  see  him  in  his  cell. 

When  we  had  entered  his  gloomy  prison,  the  jailer  closed 
behind  us  its  massive  iron  door,  and  barred  and  locked  it. 
We  found  ourselves  in  a  spacious  passage,  with  a  stone  floor, 
and  stone  walls,  and  stone  roof,  and  with  narrow  iron  doors 
on  each  side,  leading  to  the  cells  of  the  various  prisoners. 
"We  ascended  the  stairs,  and  found  every  story  assuming  the 
same  rigid  features  of  iron  and  stone.  In  a  corner  of  the 
upper  story  was  the  cell  of  the  murderer. 

A  little  grated  window  opened  into  the  passage-way. 
The  jailer  tapped  softly  at  the  window,  and  informed  the 
prisoner,  in  a  kind  and  gentle  tone,  that  the  clergyman  had 
come. 

"  Should  you  like  to  have  us  come  in?"  asked  the 
jailer. 

The  prisoner  instantly  assented,  and  the  jailer  unbolted 
and  unbarred  the  door.  "  Strange  !"  thought  I.  "Here  is 
a  man  who  has  outraged  the  laws  of  both  God  and  man, 
and  a  whole  community  has  arisen  in  justice  and  declared 
that  he  is  unworthy  to  live,  and  to-morrow,  by  the  hand  of 
justice,  he  is  to  die.  And  yet  his  very  keeper  treats  him  so 
tenderly  that  he  will  not  come  into  his  cell  without  first 
obtaining  permission  !" 

As  we  passed  through  the  narrow  aperture  in  the  thick 
stone  wall  which  the  iron  door  had  closed,  the  whole  aspect 
of  the  room  and  of  the  prisoner  was  one  which  effectually 
removed  my  surprise  that  he  should  be  treated  with  kind- 
ness and  compassion.  He  was  pale  and  haggard,  and  he 
trembled  very  exceedingly.  He  seemed  exhausted  by  the 
agony  of  remorse  and  terror.  A  few  hours  before,  his  wife 
had  been  in  the  cell  to  bid  him  a  final  farewell,  and  the 
next  day  he  was  to  be  led  forth  to  execution  in  the  presence 
of  thousands.     In  the  meantime  the  walls  and  floor  and 


42  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

roof  of  his  cell — of  continued,  uninterrupted  stone  and  iron — 
seemed  to  say  to  him,  wherever  he  looked,  "  You  shall  not 
escape"  It  seemed  as  if  the  eye  would  have  rested  with 
a  feeling  of  relief  upon  a  board  or  a  curtain,  even  if  it  con- 
cealed a  stone  behind,  with  so  forbidding  and  relentless  a 
gripe  did  this  dismal  cell  seem  to  hold  its  unhappy  tenant. 
As  I  looked  between  the  heavy  iron  bars  of  his  grated  win- 
dow upon  the  distant  plains  and  hills,  and  thought  how 
ardently  he  must  wish  that  he  were  once  more  innocent  and 
free,  I  almost  forgot  the  cold-blooded  brutality  of  the  crime 
iii  mourning  over  the  misery  and  ruin  of  the  man. 

The  world  does  in  some  such  cases  sympathize  with  one 
suffering  from  remorse  ;  but,  generally,  men  are  indignant 
with  the  offender  if  his  crime  is  great,  and  they  treat  him 
with  ridicule  and  scorn  if  it  is  small.  Jesus  Christ,  how- 
ever, 'pities,  a  sinner.  He  loved  us  while  we  were  yet  in 
our  sins  ;  he  came  to  save  us.  He  came,  not  to  inflict  the 
'punishment  which  our  sin  deserved,  but  to  redeem  us  from 
the  sufferings  and  purify  us  from  the  guilt  into  which  it 
had  brought  us. 

This  is  everywhere  very  apparent  in  his  whole  history. 
Often  the  greatest  sinners  came  to  him,  and  he  never  re- 
proached them  when  they  came  with  a  humble  and  penitent 
heart.  He  always  endeavored  to  relieve  them  of  their  bur- 
den of  guilt,  and  to  give  them  assurance  of  pardon  and 
peace.  On  one  occasion,  how  kindly  does  he  say  to  a  very 
guilty  sinner,  "  I  do  not  condemn  thee  ;  go,  and  sin  no  more." 
Instead  of  intending  to  add  to  the  burden  of  guilt  by  exhib- 
iting coldly  the  contrast  of  his  own  bright  example,  or  by 
administering  severe  rebukes,  he  says,  "  Come  unto  me,  all 
ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will  give  you 

rest." 

Persons  who  wish  to  be  saved  from  sin,  very  often  dis- 
trust the  Saviour's  willingness  to  receive  them.  They 
acknowledge,  in  general  terms,  his  kindness  and  compassion, 


THE  FRIEND.  43 

and  think  that  he  is,  in  all  ordinary  cases,  willing  to  save 
the  chief  of  sinners  ;  but  they  think  there  is  something  pecu 
liar  hi  their  case,  which  should  prevent  them,  from  coming 
to  him  in  confidence.  I  observed  that  this  peculiarity  is 
almost  always  one  of  two  things  :  first,  that  they  do  not 
engage  ardently  enough  in  the  work  of  salvation ;  or,  in 
the  second  place,  that  they  have  often  resolved  before,  and 
broken  their  resolutions. 

Do  not  some  of  you,  my  readers,  feel  unwilling  to  come 
to  the  Saviour,  because  you  think  th&t  you  do  not  feel  a 
sufficient  interest  in  the  subject  ?  You  know  that  you  are 
sinners,  and  think  you  would  like  to  be  free  from  sin.  You 
would  like  such  a  friend  as  I  describe  the  Saviour  to  be,  but 
you  have  no  sufficiently  strong  conviction,  and  you  fear  the 
promises  are  not  for  you. 

Or  perhaps  some  of  you,  though  you  feel  a  deep  interest 
in  the  subject,  may  be  discouraged  and  disheartened  by  the 
sins  you  find  yourselves  constantly  committing,  and  by  your 
repeatedly  broken  resolutions.  You  think  the  Saviour  must 
be  wearied  out  by  your  continual  backslidings  and  sins,  and 
you  are  ready  to  give  up  the  contest,  and  to  think  that  final 
holiness  and  peace  are  not  for  you. 

Now  there  are  throughout  our  land  vast  multitudes 
who  are  vainly  endeavoring  to  make  their  hearts  better, 
in  order  to  recommend  themselves  to  their  Saviour's  care. 
You  must  indeed  use  every  effort  to  obtain  deliverance 
from  the  bondage  of  shi,  but  not  as  a  means  of  recom- 
mending yourself  to  the  Saviour.  Come  to  him  at  once, 
just  as  you  are,  and  seek  his  sympathy  and  assistance  in 
the  work. 

Inmnrers  after  the  path  of  piety  are  very  slow  to  learn 
that  the  Saviour  is  the  friend  of  sinners.  They  will  not 
learn  that  he  came  to  help  us  while  we  are  in  our  trials 
and  difficulties,  not  after  we  get  out  of  them.  How  many 
say  in  their  hearts,  I  must  overcome  this  sin,  or  free  myself 


44  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

from  that  temptation,  and  then  I  will  come  to  the  Saviour 
I  must  have  clearer  views  of  my  own  sins,  or  deeper  peni- 
tence, or  awaken  true  love  to  God  in  my  heart,  and  then, 
but  not  till  then,  can  I  expect  Christ  to  be  my  friend.  What, 
do  you  suppose  that  it  is  the  office  of  Jesus  Christ  to  stand 
aloof  from  the  struggling  sinner  until  he  has,  by  his  own 
unaided  strength,  and  without  assistance  or  sympathy,  fin- 
ished the  contest,  and  then  only  to  come  and  offer  his  con- 
gratulations after  the  victory  is  won  ?  Is  this  such  a  Sav- 
iour as  you  imagine  the  Bible  to  describe  ? 

At  the  door  of  one  of  the  chambers  of  the  house  in  which 
you  reside,  you  hear  a  moaning  sound,  as  of  one  in  distress. 
You  enter  hastily,  and  find  a  sick  man  writhing  in  pain,  and 
struggling  alone  with  his  sufferings.  As  soon  as  you  under- 
stand the  case,  you  say  to  him, 

"  We  must  send  for  a  physician  immediately;  there  is 
one  at  the  next  door  who  will  come  in  in  a  moment." 

"0  no,"  groans  out  the  sufferer,  "I  am  in  no  state  to 
send  for  a  physician.  My  head  aches  dreadfully — I  am 
almost  distracted  with  .pain.  I  fear  I  am  very  dangerously 
ill." 

"  Then  we  must  have  a  physician  immediately,"  you 
reply.  "  Run  and  call  him,"  you  say,  turning  to  an  attend- 
ant ;   "  ask  him  to  come  as  soon  as  possible." 

"0  stop,  stop!"  says  the  sick  man,  "wait  till  I  get  a 
little  easier ;  my  breath  is  very  short  and  my  pulse  very 
feeble,  and  besides  I  have  been  getting  worse  and  worse 
every  half  hour  for  some  time,  and  I  am  afraid  there  is  no 
hope  for  me.  Wait  a  little  while,  and  perhaps  I  may  feel 
better,  and  then  I  will  send  for  him." 

Y'ou  would  turn,  after  hearing  such  words,  and  say  ill 
a  low  voice  to  the  attendant,  "He  is  wandering  in  mind. 
Call  the  physician  immediately." 

Now  Jesus  Christ  is  a  physician.  He  comes  to  heal 
your  sins.     If  you  wish  to  be  healed,  come  to  him  atjy/ice, 


THE  FRIEND.  45 

just  as  you  are.  The  soul  that  waits  for  purer  motives,  or 
ToF  a  "deeper  sense  of  guilt,  or  for  a  stronger  interest  in  the 
subject,  before  it  comes  to  Christ,  is  a  sick  person  waiting 
for  health  before  he  sends  for  a  physician.  Jesus  Christ 
came  to  help  you  in  obtaining  these  feelings,  not  to  receive 
you  after  you  have  made  yourself  holy  without  him.  You 
have,  I  well  know,  great  and  arduous  struggles  to  make 
with  sin.  Just  as  certainly  as  you  attempt  them  alone, 
you  will  become  discouraged  and  fail.  Come  to  the  Saviour 
before  you  begin  them,  for  I  do  assure  you  you  will  need 
help. 

One  great  object  which  our  Saviour  had  in  view  in  re- 
maining so  long  in  the  world  was,  that  he  might  experience 
our  temptations,  and  the  contests  which  they  bring  up  in 
the  heart. 

It  is  very  often  the  case,  that  persons  are  struggling 
with  temptations  and  sins  almost  in  solitude,  and  those  to 
whom  they  are  directly  accountable  do  not  appreciate  the 
circumstances  in  which  they  are  placed,  and  the  efforts  they 
make  to  overcome   temptation.     I  presume  that  teachers 
very  often  blame  their  pupils  with  a  severity  which  they 
would  not  use  if  they  remembered  distinctly  the  feelings  of 
childhood.     Perhaps  a  little  boy  is  placed  on  a  seat  near  his 
intimate  friend,  and  charged  upon  pain  of  punishment  not 
to  whisper.     He  tries  to  refrain,  and  succeeds  perhaps  for 
half  an  hour  in  avoiding  every  temptation.     At  last  some 
unexpected  occurrence  or  some  sudden  thought  darts  into 
his  mind ;  his  resolutions  are  forgotten  ;  the  presence  of  the 
master,  the  regulations  of  the  school,  and  the  special  prohi- 
bition to  him,  all  flit  from  his  mind ;  and  after  the  forbidden 
act,  which  occupied  but  an  instant,  is  done,  he  immediately 
awakes  to  the  consciousness  of  having  disobeyed,  and  looks 
up  just  in  time  to  see  the  stern  eye  of  his  teacher  upon  him 
speaking  most  distinctly  of  displeasure  and  of  punishment. 
Now  if  any  severe  punishment  should  follow  such  a  trans- 


4G  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

gression,  how  disproportionate  would  it  be  to  the  guilt! 
The  boy  has  indeed  done  wrong,  but  how  slight  must  the 
wrong  be  in  the  view  of  any  one  who  could  look  into  the 
heart,  and  estimate  truly  its  moral  movements  in  such  a 
case.  It  is  unquestionably  true,  and  every  wise  teacher  is 
fully  aware  of  it,  that  in  school  discipline  there  is  constant 
danger  that  the  teacher  will  estimate  erroneously  the  moral 
character  of  the  actions  he  witnesses,  just  because  he  has 
forgotten  the  feelings  of  childhood.  He  cannot  appreciate 
its  temptations  or  understand  its  difficulties,  and  many  a 
little  struggler  with  the  inclinations  winch  would  draw  him 
from  duty,  is  chilled  and  discouraged  in  his  efforts,  because 
the  teacher  never  knows  that  he  is  making  an  effort  to  do 
his  duty,  or  at  least  never  understands  the  difficulties  and 
trials  which  he  finds  in  his  way. 

Suppose  now,  that  such  a  teacher  should  say  to  himself, 
and  suppose  he  could  by  some  magic  power  carry  the  plan 
into  effect,  "I  will  become  a  little  child  myself,  and  go  to 
school.  I  will  take  these  same  lessons  which  I  assign,  and 
endeavor  to  keep  myself  the  rules  which  I  have  been  en- 
deavoring to  enforce.  I  will  spend  two  or  three  weeks  in 
this  way,  that  I  may  learn  by  actual  experience  what  the 
difficulties  and  temptations  and  trials  of  childhood  are." 
Suppose  he  could  carry  this  plan  into  effect,  and  laying 
aside  his  accumulated  knowledge  and  that  strength  of  moral 
principle  which  long  habit  had  formed,  should  assume  the 
youth  and  the  spirits  and  all  the  feelings  of  childhood,  and 
should  take  his  place  in  some  neighboring  school,  unknown 
to  his  new  companions,  to  partake  with  them  in  all  their 
trials  and  temptations.  He  toils  upon  a  perplexing  lesson, 
that  he  may  know  by  experience  what  the  perplexity  of 
childhood  is :  he  obeys  the  strictest  rules,  that  he  may  un- 
derstand the  difficulty  of  obedience ;  and  he  exposes  himself 
to  the  unkindness  or  oppression  of  the  vicious  boys,  that 
he  may  learn  how  hard  it  is  patiently  to  endure  them. 


THE  FRIEND.  47 

After  fully  making  the  experiment,  lie  resumes  his  former 
character,  and  returns  to  his  station  of  authority.  Now 
if  this  were  done,  how  cordially,  how  much  better  could 
he  afterwards  sympathize  with  his  pupils  hi  their  trials, 
and  with  what  confidence  could  they  come  to  him  in  all 
their  cares. 

Now  we  have  such  a  Saviour  as  this.  The  Word  was 
made  flesh,  that  is,  became  man,  and  dwelt  among  us.  He 
took  not  on  him  the  nature  of  angels,  but  the  nature  of 
man.  "Wherefore  it  behooved  him  in  all  things  to  be  made 
like  unto  his  brethren,  that  he  might  be  a  merciful  and 
faithful  high-priest."  "We  have  not  a  high-priest  which 
cannot  be  touched  with  the  feeling  of  our  infirmities,  but 
was  in  all  points  tempted  like  as  we  are." 

My  reader  will  doubtless  observe  that  tins  case  is  some- 
what, similar  to  that  of  Howard,  which  I  imagined  in  the 
former  part  of  this  chapter.  I  was  then  upon  the  subject 
of  sympathy  with  suffering.  I  imagined  Howard  to  become 
a  prisoner,  that  he  might  understand  and  sympathize  with 
the  sufferings  of  prisoners.  Now  I  am  speaking  of  the 
subject  of  temptation  and  struggling  against  sin,  and  I 
imagine  the  teacher  to  become  a  child,  that  he  may  appre- 
ciate the  trials  and  temptations  of  childhood. 

We  may  trust  in  the  sympathy  of  our  Saviour  in  this  lasl 
respect  as  well  as  in  the  other.  His  disposition  to  feel  com- 
passion and  sympathy  in  regard  to  those  who  had  brought 
themselves  into  difficulty  by  doing  wrong,  was  very  often 
manifested  while  he  was  upon  the  earth,  and  we  may  be 
sure  Iris  character  is  not  in  this  respect  altered  now. 

But  it  is  time  that  I  should  bring  this  chapter  to  a  close 
The  sum  and  substance  of  what  I  have  been  endeavoring  to 
illustrate  in  it  is  this  :  Christ  is  the  sinner  s  friend ;  he  is 
able  and  willing  to  save  you  from  the  punishment  and  from 
the  power  of  sin.  If  you  confess  all  your  sins  and  seek  their 
forgiveness  through  his  blood,  and  resolve  henceforth  to  lead 


48  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

a  life  of  piety,  you  will  need  a  friend  and  helper.  You  will 
want  sympathy  both  in  your  sufferings  and  in  your  strug- 
gles v:ith  temptation.  Our  Lord  Jesus  Christ  will  sympa- 
thize with  you  and  help  you  in  both. 

I  once  knew  a  benevolent  gentleman  whose  fortune  ren- 
dered him  independent,  but  whose  medical  knowledge  and 
skill  were  of  a  very  high  order,  and  he  practised  constantly 
without  fee  or  reward,  for  the  simple  purpose  of  relieving 
suffering.  The  only  things  necessary  to  secure  his  attention 
were  to  be  sick,  to  need  his  aid,  and  to  send  for  him.  He 
did  not  wish  his  patients  to  become  convalescent  before  he 
would  visit  them ;  nor  did  he  inquire  how  often  they  had 
been  sick  before.  There  was  one  poor  lad  who  took  cold,  1 
believe,  by  breaking  through  the  ice  in  the  winter,  and  he 
was  rendered  a  helpless  cripple  for  years,  and  yet  this  gentle- 
man or  some  of  his  family  visited  him  almost  daily  during  all 
this  time,  and  instead  of  getting  tired  of  his  patient,  he  be- 
came more  and  more  interested  in  him  to  the  last.  Now 
our  Redeemer  is  such  a  physician.  He  does  not  ask  any 
preparation  before  we  send  for  Mm  ;  nor  does  he  get  tired  of 
us  because  he  has  helped  us  back  from  our  wanderings  to  duty 
and  happiness  a  great  many  times.  Some  one  asked  him 
once  how  often  he  ought  to  forgive  his  brother  after  repeated 
transgressions.  "Shall  I  forgive  him  seven  times?"  was 
the  question.  "  Forgive,"  said  the  Saviour,  "  not  only  seven 
times,  but  seventy  times  seven."  How  strange  it  is,  that 
after  this  a  backsliding  Christian  can  ever  hesitate  to  come 
back  at  once  after  he  has  wandered,  with  an  assurance  that 
God  will  forgive. 

"A  bruised  reed  he  shall  not  break."  How  beautiful  and 
striking  an  illustration  of  our  Redeemer's  kindness  to  those 
who  have  sinned.  A  planter  walks  out  into  his  grounds, 
and  among  the  reeds  growing  there,  there  is  one,  young, 
green,  and  slender,  which  a  rude  blast  has  broken.  Its  ver- 
dant top  is  drenched  in  the  waters  which  bathe  its  root; 


THE   FRIEND.  49 

and  perhaps  he  hesitates  for  a  moment  whether  to  tear  it 
from  the  spot  and  throw  it  away.  But  no  ;  he  raises  it  to 
its  place,  carefully  adjusts  its  bruised  stem,  and  sustains  it  by 
a  support  till  it  once  more  acquire  its  former  strength  and 
beauty.  Now  Jesus  Christ  is  this  planter.  Every  back- 
sliding, humbled  Christian  is  a  bruised  reed ;  and  0  how 
many  are  now  thriving  and  vigorous,  that  in  the  hour  of 
humiliation  have  been  saved  by  his  tenderness. 

Come  then  to  this  Friend,  all  of  you.  Having  intrusted 
your  soul  to  him  as  your  Saviour,  bring  all  your  interests  and 
hopes  and  fears  to  him ;  he  will  sympathize  in  them  all. 
And  whenever  you  have  wandered,  never  hesitate  a  moment 
to  return. 


T.  Cbristlas. 


50  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 


CHAPTER   III. 

PRAYER,. 
"  Whatsoever  ye  shall  ask  in  my  name,  I  will  do  it." 

As  I  have  on  this  subject  many  separate  points  to  dis- 
cuss, I  shall  arrange  what  I  have  to  say  under  several  dis- 
tinct heads,  that  the  view  presented  may  be  the  better 

(to 

understood  and  remembered. 

I.  The  poicer  of  prayer.  This  subject  may  be  best 
illustrated  by  describing  a  case. 

A  kind  and  affectionate  father,  whose  son  had  arrived  at 
an  age  which  rendered-  it  necessary  for  him  to  prepare  for 
the  business  of  life,  concluded  to  send  him  from  home.  Their 
mutual  attachment  was  strong,  and  though  each  knew  it 
was  for  the  best,  each  looked  upon  the  approaching  separa- 
tion with  regret.  The  father  felt  solicitous  for  the  future 
character  and  happiness  of  his  boy,  as  he  was  now  to  go  forth 
into  new  temptations  and  dangers;  and  the  son  was  reluc- 
tant to  leave  the  quiet  and  the  happiness  of  his  father's  fire- 
side for  the  bustle  of  business  and  the  rough  exposures  of  the 
crowded  city  where  he  was  for  the  future  to  find  a  home. 
The  hour  of  separation,  however,  at  last  arrives,  and  the 
father  says  to  him  at  parting, 

"  My  son,  be  faithful,  do  your  duty,  and  you  will  be  happy. 
Remember  your  parents,  the  efforts  they  have  made,  and  the 
affection  they  feel  for  you.  "Watch  against  temptation,  and 
shun  it.  I  will  supply  all  your  wants.  When  you  wish  for 
any  thing  write  to  me,  and  you  shall  have  it.  And  may 
God  bless  you,  and  keep  you  safe  and  happy." 

My  reader  will  observe  that  this  language,  Avhich  is  not 
fiction,  but  fact,  for  it  has  in  substance  been  addressed  in  a 
thousand  instances  under  the  circumstances  above  described. 


PRAYER.  51 

contains  a  promise  to  send  the  son  whatever  he  shall  ash  for. 
But  the  meaning  of  it  is  not — and  no  boy  would  understand 
it  to  be — that  every  possible  request  which  he  might  make 
would  be  certainly  granted.  Although  the  promise  is  made 
in  the  few  simple  words,  "whenever  you  want  any  thing, 
write  to  me  and  you  shall  have  it,"  yet  the  meaning  express- 
ed fully  would  be,  "  whenever  you  wish  for  any  thing  winch 
as  far  as  you  can  see  is  proper  for  you,  if  you  will  let  me 
know  it  I  will  send  it,  unless  I  see  that  it  is  better  for  you 
not  to  have  it,  or  unless  there  are  other  special  reasons  which 
prevent  my  complying." 

Now  a  boy  may  in  such  a  case  make  a  great  many  re- 
quests which  the  father  might  refuse  without  being  consid- 
ered by  any  one  as  breaking  his  promise. 

1 .  He  may  ask  something  which  the  father  knows  would, 
in  the  end,  injure  him.  Suppose  he  should  request  his 
father  to  supply  him  with  double  his  usual  amount  of  pocket 
money,  and  the  father  should  see  clearly  that  the  effect  of 
granting  the  request  would  be  to  cultivate  in  him  careless 
and  extravagant  habits  of  expenditure,  and  to  divert  his 
attention  from  his  busmess.  In  such  a  case  the  father  would 
undoubtedly  refuse,  and  no  one  would  imagine  that  he  was 
breaking  his  promise.  The  boy,  if  he  had  done  right,  would 
not  have  asked. 

2.  He  may  ask  something  which,  if  granted,  would  inter- 
fere with  the  rights  or  happiness  of  others.  There  was  a 
watch,  we  will  imagine,  hanging  up  hi  his  father's  house, 
used  by  all  the  family — the  only  timepiece  accessible  to 
them.  Now  supposing  the  boy,  growing  selfish  and  vain, 
and  thinking  that  his  importance  among  his  comrades  would 
be  a  little  increased  by  a  watch,  should  write  to  his  father  to 
send  that  to  him.  "Who  would  thmk  that  his  father  would 
be  obliged  to  comply  on  account  of  his  parting  promise  to 
his  son  to  supply  all  his  wants  ?  Even  Christians  very  often 
make  such  selfish  requests,  and  wonder  why  their  prayers 


52  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

are  not  heard.  A  farmer  who  has  one  field  which  needs 
watering,  will  pray  for  rain  with  great  earnestness,  forget- 
ting that  God  has  to  take  care  of  the  ten  thousand  fields  all 
around  his  own,  and  that  they  perhaps  need  the  sun.  A 
mother  who  has  a  boy  at  sea  will  pray  for  prosperous  winds 
for  him,  forgetting  that  the  ocean  is  whitened  with  sails 
all  under  God's  care,  and  that  the  breeze  which  bears  one 
onward  must  retard  another.  But  more  on  this  subject 
presently. 

3.  He  may  ask  in  an  improper  manner.  Suppose  the 
father  should  take  from  the  post-ofhce  a  letter  in  his  son's 
handwriting,  and  on  breaking  the  seal,  should  read  as  fol- 
lows : 

"  Dear  Father — You  must  let  me  come  home  next  week 

to  Christmas.     I  wanted  to  come  last  year,  but  you  would 

not  let  me,  and  now  I  must  come.     I  want  you  to  write  me 

immediately,  and  send  it  back  by  the  driver,  telling  me  I 

may  come. 

"  I  am  your  dutiful  son, 

u p 

"Who  would  think  that  a  father  ought  to  grant  a  request 
made  in  such  a  way  as  this  ?  It  is  to  be  feared  that  Chris- 
tians sometimes  bring  demands,  instead  of  requests,  to  God. 

I  have  mentioned  now  three  cases  in  which  the  father 
might,  without  breaking  his  promise,  refuse  the  requests  of 
his  boy  :  where  it  would  be  injurious  to  him,  unjust  to  others, 
or  where  the  request  is  made  in  an  improper  manner.  All 
promises  of  such  a  sort  as  this  are  universally  considered  as 
liable  to  these  exceptions. 

Our  Saviour  tells  us,  "  Whatsoever  ye  shall  ask  the 
Father  in  my  name,  he  will  do  it."  This  is  common  lan- 
guage, such  as  men  address  to  men,  and  is  doubtless  to  be 
understood  according  to  its  most  natural  and  familiar  import. 
It  evidently  implies  that  our  requests,  humbly  and  properly 
presented  in  the  name  of  Christ,  through  whom  alone  we 


PRAYER.  53 

have  access  to  God  the  Father,  will  have  a  real  influence 
with  him  in  regard  to  things  entirely  beyond  our  control. 
But  God  must  reserve  the  right  to  deny  our  requests  when 
made  in  an  improper  spirit  or  manner,  and  when  they  ask 
what  would  injure  us,  or  interfere  with  the  general  good. 

If  any  of  you  have,  in  accordance  with  the  views  pre- 
sented in  the  two  preceding  chapters,  confessed  your  past 
sins,  and  obtained  mercy  through  faith  hi  the  Redeemer,  you 
will  take  great  pleasure  in  bringing  your  requests  to  God. 
And  you  may,  in  doing  this,  sometimes  pray  for  success  in 
some  enterprise  when  God  sees  that  it  is  on  the  whole  best 
that  you  should  fail.  A  man  may  ask  that  God  will  place 
him  in  some  important  station  of  influence  or  usefulness, 
when  the  eye  that  can  see  the  whole  discovers  that  the  gen- 
eral good  will  be  promoted  by  another  arrangement.  Thus 
in  many  similar  ways  your  prayers  may  sometimes  come 
within  the  excepted  cases,  and  then  God  will  not  grant  them. 
Still,  God  has  revealed  himself  as  the  hearer  of  prayer  ;  and 
it  will  at  last  be  seen  that  he  was  more  ready  to  grant  all 
our  requests  presented  in  the  name  of  Christ,  than  we  were 
to  spread  them  before  him. 

There  is  even  among  Christians  a  great  deal  of  distrust 
of  the  power  of  prayer.  Some  think  that  prayer  exerts  a 
good  influence  upon  their  own  hearts,  and  thus  they  continue 
the  practice,  without,  however,  having  any  very  cordial 
belisf  that  their  prayers  are  really  listened  to  and  granted  as 
requests  by  the  great  Jehovah.  Many  persons  imagine  that 
prayer  has  an  efficacy  in  some  such  way  as  this  :  A  man 
asks  God  to  protect  and  bless  him  in  his  business.  By  offer- 
ing the  prayer  every  day,  he  is  reminded  of  his  dependence ; 
he  thinks  of  the  necessity  of  his  own  industry  and  patient 
effort ;  and  thus,  through  the  influence  of  his  prayer,  the 
causes  of  prosperity  are  brought  to  operate  more  fully  in  his 
case,  and  prosperity  comes. 

This  is  indeed  often  one  of  the  happy  results  of  believing 


54  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

prayer ;  but  it  can  by  no  means  be  regarded  as  a  granting 
of  the  request,  or  a  fulfilment  of  the  promise,  "  Whatsoever 
ye  shall  ask  the  Father,  he  shall  do  it."  The  Father  shall 
do  it.  This  is  a  promise  that  God  shall  do  something  which 
we  ask  him  to  do — not  that  the  natural  effect  of  our  asking 
will  be  favorable  in  its  influence  upon  us. 

There  is  another  way  hi  which  it  seems  to  me  there  is  a 
great  deal  of  want  of  faith  hi  God  in  regard  to  the  efficacy 
of  prayer.  It  is  often  said  that  requests  may  not  be  granted 
in  the  precise  form  in  which  they  were  offered,  but  that  they 
are  always  answered  in  some  way  or  other.  A  mother,  for 
instance,  who  has  a  son  at  sea,  prays  morning  and  evening 
for  his  safe  return.  Letter  after  letter  comes,  assuring  her 
of  his  continued  safety,  until  at  last  the  sad  news  arrives 
that  his  ship  has  been  dashed  upon  a  rock  or  sunk  in  the 
waves.  Now  can  it  be  said  that  the  mother's  prayer  was 
granted  ?  Suppose  that  she  was,  by  tins  afflicting  provi- 
dence, weaned  from  the  world  and  prepared  for  heaven,  and 
thus  inconceivably  benefited  by  the  event.  Was  this,  in  any 
common  or  correct  use  of  language,  granting  the  request  in 
another  form ;  or  was  it  denying  it  because  it  was  inconsist- 
ent with  her  greatest  good  ?  Suppose  a  child  asks  his  father 
to  let  him  keep  a  knife  he  has  found,  and  the  father  takes  it. 
away,  knowing  that  he  would  probably  injure  himself  with 
it.  Is  this  granting  the  request  in  another  form  ?  No.  We 
ought,  whenever  the  particular  request  we  make  is  not 
granted,  to  consider  it  as  a  denial,  and  to  suppose  that  it 
comes  under  one  of  the  cases  of  exceptions  I  have  already 
specified. 

There  is,  indeed,  such  a  thing  as  granting  a  request  in 
another  form  from  that  in  which  it  was  made.  A  family, 
one  of  whose  members  is  in  feeble  health,  prays  for  that 
member,  that  God  would  restore  him.  They  come  sincerely 
and  earnestly  to  the  throne  of  grace,  and  ask  God  to  spare 
his  life  and  make  him  well.     Instead,  however,  of  gi owing 


PRAYER. 


55 


better,  he  grows  suddenly  worse.  He  is  attacked  with  vio- 
lent sickness,  and  his  friends  think  that  their  prayers  cannot 
be  heard,  and  suppose  that  they  must  follow  him  to  the 
grave.  The  sickness  however  soon  passes  away,  and  instead 
of  carrying  him  to  the  tomb,  by  means  of  some  mysterious 
influence  which  is  in  such  cases  often  exerted  upon  the  con- 
stitution, he  rises  from  his  sick  bed  with  renewed  bodily 
powers,  and  as  his  strength  gradually  returns,  he  finds  that 
his  constitution  is  renewed  and  health  entirely  restored. 
Now  this  is  granting  the  request,  because  the  thing  request- 
ed, that  is,  the  restoration  to  health,  is  obtained,  though  the 
manner- was  unexpected  ;  but  if  the  man  should  die,  no  mat- 
ter what  great  benefits  to  all  resulted  from  his  death,  it  is 
certainly  not  right  to  say  that  the  request  was  granted  in 
anv  way.  It  was  denied,  because  God  saw  it  was  best  that 
it  should  be  denied. 

Let  u^thenJ£eep--coftstantlv  hi  view  Ihe  fact,  that  our 
petitions  often  are,  and  must  be  denied — positively  and  abso- 
lutelv  refusecL-ZXhe  language  which  our  Saviour  uses, 
though  without  any  specified  exceptions,  contains  the  excep- 
tions that  in  all  human  language  are  in  ail  such  cases  im- 
plied. The  feelings,  however,  which,  in  this  view  of  the 
subject,  we  ought  to  cherish,  may  properly  be  presented 
under  the  folio  whig  head  : 

II.  A  submissive  spirit  in  prayer.  "We  ought  unques- 
tionably to  bring  a  great  many  requests  to  God  relating  to 
our  daily  pursuits.  We  ought  to  express  to  him  our  com- 
mon desires,  ask  success  in  our  common  enterprises  and  plans. 
Young  persons,  it  seems  to  me,  ought  to  do  this  far  more 
than  they  do.  They  ought  to  bring  all  their  little  interests 
and  concerns,  morning  and  evening,  to  their  Friend  above. 
Whatever  interests  you,  as  I  have  already  once  or  twice 
remarked,  will  interest  him.  Bring  to  him  freely  your  little 
troubles  and  cares,  and  express  your  wants.  If  the  young 
cannot  come  to  God  with  their  own  appropriate  and  peculiar 


56  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

concerns,  they  are  in  reality  without  a  protector.  If,  how- 
ever, we  are  in  the  habit  of  bringing  all  our  wants  to  God, 
we  shall  often  ask  for  something  which  it  is  far  better  for  us 
not  to  have.  We  cannot  always  judge  correctly  ;  but  unless 
we  know  that  what  we  want  is  dangerous,  or  that  it  will  be 
injurious,  it  is  proper  to  ask  for  it.  If  we  do  or  might  know, 
to  request  it  would  be  obviously  wrong  David  prayed  very 
earnestly  that  his  child  might  live,  but  God  thought  it  not 
best  to  grant  the  petition.  David  did  right  to  pray,  for  he 
probably  did  not  know  but  that  the  request  might  be  safely 
granted.  Let  us  feel  therefore,  when  we  come  with  our 
petitions,  that  perhaps  God  will  think  it  best  for  us  that 
they  should  be  denied. 

This  is  peculiarly  the  case  in  praying  for  deliverance 
from  danger.  Our  hearts  may  be  relieved  and  lightened  by 
committing  ourselves  to  God's  care,  but  we  can  never  feel 
on  that  account  sure  that  we  are  safe.  God  very  often 
makes  sickness,  or  a  storm  at  sea,  or  the  lightning,  or  any 
other  source  of  common  danger  and  alarm,  the  means  of 
removing  a  Christian  from  the  world.  You  do  not  know 
but  that  he  will  remove  you  in  this  way.  The  next  time  a 
thunder-storm  arises  in  the  west,  it  may  be  God's  design  to 
bring  one  of  its  terrific  bolts  upon  your  head,  and  you  cannot 
of  course  avert  it  by  simply  asking  God  to  spare  you.  He 
will  listen  to  your  prayer,  take  it  into  kind  consideration, 
and  if  you  ask  in  a  proper  spirit,  he  will  probably  give  you 
a  calm  and  happy  heart,  even  in  the  most  imminent  danger. 
But  you  cannot  be  sure  you  will  escape  the  lightning.  The 
ground  of  your  peace  must  be,  that  God  will  do  ichat  is  best, 
not  that  he  will  certainly  do  ichat  you  wish. 

From  one  of  the  small  seaport  towns  of  New  England,  a 
packet  once  set  sail  for  Boston.  These  packets,  which  are 
intended  to  carry  passengers,  have  one  large  cabin.  The 
berths — which  perhaps  I  ought  to  inform  some  of  my  young 
readers,  are  a  sort  of  shelves,  upon  which  passengers  at  sea 


PRAYER.  57 

sleep,  one  above  the  other — are  arranged  around  this  cabin, 
and  a  movable  partition,  which  can  be  thrown  open  by  day, 
divides  the  room  at  night  into  two  parts.  On  board  one  of 
these  packets,  then,  a  few  years  ago,  a  number  of  persons, 
ladies  and  gentlemen,  previously  entire  strangers  to  each 
other,  found  themselves  slowly  sailing  out  of  an  eastern  har- 
bor, on  a  coasting  voyage  of  about  two  hundred  miles.  They 
did  not  know  how  long  they  were  to  be  together,  what  ad- 
ventures might  befall  them,  or  what  dangers  they  might 
share.  They  were  however  to  spend  their  time  in  the  same 
room,  and  as  they  were  tossing  upon  the  waves  in  the  same 
vessel,  a  sense  of  common  interest  and  of  common  danger 
brought  them  at  once  to  terms  of  intimacy. 

The  next  morning  there  was  scarcely  a  breath  of  air. 
The  vessel  heaved  gently  on  the  water,  whose  surface  was 
polished  like  glass,  though  it  swelled  and  sunk  with  the 
undulations  of  distant  storms.  In  the  tedium  of  waiting  for 
wind,  each  one  of  the  passengers  and  crew  amused  himself 
in  his  own  way.  Here,  you  might  see  a  cluster  talking  ; 
there,  two  or  three  passengers  gathering  around  a  sailor  who 
was  letting  down  his  line  for  fish.  Others,  in  various  places, 
had  their  books. 

A  Christian  traveller  who  was  present,  sat  down  upon 
the  quarter-deck,  and  opened  a  little  bundle  of  books  and 
newspapers  and  tracts,  which  he  had  provided  for  the 
occasion. 

Presently  a  gentleman  who  had  been  sitting  for  half  an 
hour  gazing,  for  want  of  other  employment,  upon  every 
sprig  of  sea-weed  or  floating  bubble  he  could  see,  advanced 
to  him,  and  asked, 

"  Will  you  lend  me  something  to  read  ?" 
"  Certainly,  sir,  any  thing  I  have  ;  but  most  of  my  stock 
here  is  of  a  religious  character,  and  I  do  not  know  whether 
you  will  take  any  interest  in  it." 

The  gentleman  replied  that  he  should.     He  selected  a 

3*  « 


58  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

newspaper  or  a  tract,  took  his  seat  again,  and  began  to  read. 
Presently  a  lady  made  the  same  request ;  others  looked  as 
though  they  wished  to,  but  hesitated.  Our  traveller  observ- 
ing this,  said  to  all  within  hearing, 

"  If  others  of  the  company  would  like  any  thing  I  have, 
I  should  be  happy  to  have  them  take  it.  I  always  carry  a 
supply  of  reading  when  I  travel,  though  I  select  my  books 
perhaps  too  much  to  suit  my  own  taste  alone.  What  I  have 
here  is  chiefly  of  a  religious  character,  and  it  may  not  be 
so  generally  interesting  on  that  account.  You  are  heartily 
welcome  to  any  of  these,  however,  if  you  please.  Sitting 
here  with  nothing  to  do  is  rather  dull." 

The  books  and  tracts  were  soon  generally  in  circulation, 
the  passengers  were  nearly  all  busy  in  reading  them,  and  the 
time  passed  swiftly  away.  Our  traveller  became  known  as 
a  Christian ;  and  were  I  now  upon  the  subject  of  Christian 
influence,  I  might  describe  many  interesting  occurrences 
which  took  place,  the  Christian  acquaintances  which  he 
formed,  and  the  conversations  which  he  had  with  various 
persons  on  board  the  vessel.  But  I  am  going  so  much  into 
detail  in  this  story,  that  I  fear  you  have  almost  lost  sight  of 
our  subject,  which  is  the  duty  of  praying  to  God  with  the 
feeling  that  he  will,  after  all,  do  as  he  pleases  about  grant- 
ing the  request.  I  must  hasten  to  the  conclusion  of  my 
story. 

The  passage  was  an  uncommonly  long  one.  They  hoped 
to  reach  their  port  in  two  days,  but  after  ten  had  passed 
away,  they  were  still  far  from  Boston,  night  was  coming  on, 
and  what  was  still  worse,  the  captain,  who  stood  anxiously 
at  the  helm,  said  there  were  signs  of  a  terrific  storm.  A 
dark  haze  extended  itself  over  the  whole  southern  sky.  The 
swell  of  the  sea  increased.  The  rising  wind  moaned  inmost 
melancholy  tones  through  the  rigging.  The  captain  gave 
orders  to  take  in  sail,  to  make  every  thing  snug  about  the 
vessel,  and  had  supper  prepared  earlier  than  usual,  "  be- 


PRAYER.  59 

cause,"  said  he,  "  I  expect,  from  the  looks  of  the  sky  yonder, 
that  an  hour  hence  you  will  not  manage  a  cup  of  tea  very 
handily." 

The  passengers  ate  their  supper  hi  silence.  Their  hearts 
were  full  of  foreboding  fears.  The  captain  endeavored  to 
encourage  them.  He  said  that  they  were  not  far  from  Bos- 
ton. He  hoped  soon  to  see  the  light.  If  they  could  make 
out  to  get  into  the  harbor  before  it  began  to  blow  very  hard, 
they  should  be  safe.  "Yes,"  said  he,  "I  am  in  hopes  to 
land  you  all  safely  at  the  T  before  ten  o'clock.*  Unless 
we  can  get  fairly  into  the  harbor,  however,  I  shall  have  to 
put  about  and  stand  out  to  sea ;  for  if  we  are  to  have  a 
storm,  we  must  not  stay  tossing  about  near  the  rocks." 

The  storm  increased.  Sail  after  sail  was  reefed  or  taken 
in,  but  still  the  spirits  of  the  company  were  sustained  by 
knowing  that  they  were  advancing  towards  Boston,  and  by 
the  hope  that  they  should  soon  stand  upon  the  firm  shore. 
J>o  great,  however,  was  the  pitching  and  rolling  of  the  ship, 
that  most  of  the  passengers  retreated  to  their  berths  and 
braced  themselves  there.  A  few  of  the  more  hardy  or  expe- 
rienced remained  upon  deck,  clinging  to  the  masts  or  to  the 
rigging,  and  watching  with  interest  the  distant  glimmering 
of  the  Boston  light,  which  had  a  short  time  before  come 
into  view. 

"  We  are  not  very  far  from  the  light,"  said  the  captain, 
"  but  it  blows  pretty  hard." 

"  Do  you  think  we  shall  get  in?"  asked  a  passenger. 

"  I  do  not  know,"  said  he,  shaking  his  head;  "it  is  a 
bad  night.     I  vail,  however,  try  for  it." 

The  passengers  watched  the  light.  They  observed  that 
the  captain  did  not  like  to  talk  while  he  was  at  the  helm, 
and  they  forbore  to  ask  him  questions.  They  knew  that  as 
long  as  they  were  going  towards  the  light  there  was  hope, 
and  they  watched  it  therefore  with  a  very  eager  eye.  Some* 
*  The  T,  a  noted  wharf  at  Boston. 


60  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

times  the  ship  would  veer  a  little  from  her  course,  and  as 
the  light  moved  off  to  the  right  or  to  the  left,  they  were 
filled  with  solicitude  lest  the  captain  was  going  to  abandon 
the  effort  and  put  out  again  to  sea. 

He  kept,  however,  steadily  on  another  half-hour,  though 
wild  and  wave  seemed  to  do  their  utmost  to  compel  him  to 
return.  The  light  grew  larger  and  brighter  as  they  ap- 
proached it,  but  the  wind  increased  so  rapidly  that  the  cap- 
tain seemed  much  perplexed  to  know  what  to  do.  He  put 
the  helm  into  the  hands  of  a  sailor  and  went  forward,  and 
stood  there  looking  upon  the  dark,  gloomy  horizon  until  he 
was  completely  drenched  with  the  spray.  In  a  few  minutes 
he  returned  suddenly. 

"  Tis  of  no  use,"  said  he;  and  then  taking  the  helm 
again,  he  called  out  in  his  loudest  voice  to  the  sailors  who 
were  before,  which  however  the  roaring  of  the  waves  almost 
drowned, 

"Ready  about." 

The  sailors  answered,  "  Ready." 

A  moment  after,  the  captain's  voice  was  again  heard  in 
the  loud  but  monotonous  tone  of  command : 

"  Helm's  alee." 

There  was  bustle  at  the  bows  of  the  ship.  A  great  sail 
napped  in  the  wind  with  a  sound  of  thunder ;  the  ropes 
rattled ;  the  boom  swung  with  violence  across  the  deck ; 
and  the  bow,  which  had  been  pointed  directly  to  the  light- 
house, their  only  star  of  hope,  now  swept  swiftly  around  the 
horizon,  until  it  left  it  behind  them.  The  vessel  plunged 
into  the  waves ;  and  to  complete  this  scene  of  terror,  a  loud 
sound,  like  a  clap  of  rattling  thunder,  burst  close  over  their 
heads,  arousing  every  passenger,  and  producing  universal 
alarm.     It  was  the  splitting  of  the  topsail. 

The  melancholy  intelligence  was  soon  spread  below,  that 
the  effort  to  reach  Boston  was  abandoned,  and  that  they 
were  now  standing  out  to  the  open  sea,  and  that  conse- 


PRAYER.  61 

quently  they  must  be  all  night  exposed  unsheltered  to  the 
violence  of  the  storm.  Although  the  commotion  had  already 
been  enough  to  fill  the  passengers  with  fear,  yet,  to  an  eye 
accustomed  to  the  ocean,  there  had  not  been  any  real  danger. 
But  real  danger  soon  came.  The  wind  increased,  and  the 
vessel  labored  so  much  in  struggling  against  its  fury,  that 
even  the  captain  thought  it  doubtful  whether  they  should 
ever  see  the  land. 

When  I  commenced  this  description,  I  had  no  intention 
of  giving  so  full  a  narrative  of  the  circumstances  of  a  storm 
at  sea,  and  perhaps  my  reader  has  almost  forgotten  what  is 
my  subject,  and  for  what  purpose  I  have  introduced  this 
incident.  My  design  was  to  illustrate  the  feelings  with 
which  prayer  ought  to  be  offered  in  danger,  and  I  wished 
therefore  to  give  you  a  vivid  idea  of  a  situation  of  danger  on 
the  deep.  Our  passengers  were  now  in  imminent  danger. 
They  were  all  in  then  berths  below  ;  for  so  violent  was  the 
motion  of  the  vessel  that  it  w^as  not  safe  to  attempt  to  stand. 
The  wish  was  intimated  by  some,  and  the  desire  soon  ex- 
tended to  all,  that  a  prayer  should  be  offered,  and  they  looked 
to  our  Christian  traveller  to  express  their  petitions  at  the 
throne  of  grace. 

Now  many  persons  may  have  such  conceptions  of  the 
nature  of  prayer  as  to  suppose,  that  if  this  company  should 
now  sincerely  unite  in  commending  themselves  to  God's 
protection,  he  would  certainly  bring  them  safe  to  land.  But 
many  cases  have  occurred  in  which  Christians  who  have 
been  in  the  midst  of  danger,  have  fled  to  Jehovah  for  pro- 
tection, and  offered  sincere  and  doubtless  acceptable  prayer 
to  him,  who  yet  were  not  delivered  from  the  danger  imme- 
diately impending  over  them.  Are  real  Christians  never 
lost  at  sea  ?  Do  real  Christians  who,  on  their  sick  beds,  pray 
that  God  will  restore  them  to  health,  never  die  ?  Is  a  Chris- 
tian who,  on  commencing  a  journey,  asks  divine  protection, 
never  overturned  in  a  coach  ?     Is  the  family  wiiich  always 


62  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

asks,  in  its  evening  prayer,  that  God  will  grant  them  quiet 
repose,  never  called  up  by  the  sudden  sickness  of  a  child,  or 
aroused  at  midnight  by  a  cry  of  fire  ?  Facts  universally 
testify  that  God  does  not  grant  every  request  in  the  precise 
form  and  manner  in  which,  in  our  ignorance,  it  is  presented. 
He  knows  what  is  best,  and  complies  with  our  requests  so 
far  as  he  sees  to  be  consistent. 

Then  you  will  say,  "What  good  does  it  do  to  pray  to  God 
in  danger,  if  we  can  have  no  assurance  that  we  shall  be 
safe  ?  » It  does  great  good.  You  cannot  be  sure  that  you 
will  be  certainly  preserved  from  that  danger,  but  you  can 
rest  calmly  and  peacefully  in  the  assurance  that  God  will 
graciously  regard  your  prayer,  and  do  icliat  on  the  whole  is 
for  the  best.  "  And  will  this  feeling,"  you  ask,  "  enable  any 
one  to  rest  in  peace  while  he  is  out  at  sea  in  a  storm,  and 
in  danger  every  moment  of  sinking?"  Yes,  it  will,  if  fully 
possessed.  If  Ave  could  feel  assured  that  God  was  our 
friend,  and  if  we  had  entire  confidence  in  him,  no  danger 
would  terrify  us  ;  we  should  be  calm  and  happy  in  all  situ- 
ations. Christians  have  very  often  been  calm  and  happy 
when  not  danger  merely,  but  certain  death  was  approach- 
ing, so  strong  has  been  their  confidence  hi  God.  And  is 
there  not  good  reason  why  it  should  be  so  ?  Shall  a  Chris- 
tian who  knows  the  affection  of  his  heavenly  Father,- and 
who  knows  that  there  is  a  future  world  of  peace  and  joy, 
shall  he  refuse  to  be  calm  in  danger,  unless  he  can  first  be 
sure  that  he  shall  certainly  be  preserved  uninjured  ?  No. 
When  we  ask  God's  protection  in  danger,  we  may,  in  all 
ordinary  cases,  expect  protection.  He  has  promised  to  grant 
our  requests,  unless  special  reasons  prevent.  Now,  as  we 
cannot  know  what  these  special  reasons  are,  we  cannot  be 
certain  of  security,  and  consequently  the  foundation  of  our 
peace  and  happiness  at  such  times  must  be,  not  the  belief 
that  we  are  certainly  safe,  but  a  calm  and  happy  acqui- 
escence in  God's  will.     Not  a  sparrow  falls  to  the  ground; 


PRAYER. 


6n 


without  his  knowledge ;  still,  sparrows  often  do  fall.  All 
that  we  can  be  absolutely  certain  of  is,  that  whatever  hap- 
pens to  us  will  come  with  the  knowledge  and  permission  of 
our  best  and  greatest  Friend  ;  and  every  calamity  which 
comes  in  this  way,  we  ought  to  be  willing  to  meet. 

But  to  return  to  our  ship.  The  passengers  were  all 
below.  •  It  was  no  longer  safe  for  them  to  attempt  to  stand 
in  any  part  of  the  vessel,  and  the  Christian  traveller  called 
upon  God  to  save  them  from  their  common  danger.  "V\  hat 
prayer  he  offered  I  do  not  know.  I  learned  the  circum- 
stances of  the  danger  of  this  packet,  first  from  a  father  on 
shore,  who  was  waiting  the  arrival  of  his  boy  who  was  on 
board  when  the  storm  came  on,  and  afterwards  from  several 
of  the  passengers  when  they  had  all  safely  reached  the  land. 
I  do  not  therefore  know  what  the  prayer  was,  but  that  I 
may  the  more  distinctly  convey  to  my  young  readers  an 
idea  of  the  spirit  with  which  prayer  in  danger  should  be 
offered,  I  will  write  one  which  it  seems  to  me  might  with 
propriety  be  offered  on  such  an  occasion.  Let  us  imagine, 
then,  that  the  terrified  passengers,  in  their  various  berths  in 
the  dark  cabin,  listen  and  hear,  as  well  as  the  howling  of 
the  tempest  and  the  roaring  of  the  waves  will  permit,  the 
following  petition,  in  which  they  endeavor  cordially  to 
join  : 


"  Almighty  God,  thou  hast  promised  to  be  with  two  or 
three  who  unite  to  call  upon  thee,  wherever  they  are ;  we 
come  therefore  with  full  confidence  that  thou  art  with  us 
now,  and  that  thou,  who  dost  rule  wind  and  waves,  art 
really  present,  to  hear  what  we  have  to  say  as  we  come 
before  thee. 

"  Grant,  Holy  Spirit,  that  all  of  us  who  are  now  pres- 
ent, exposed  to  this  danger,  may  come  with  our  whole 
hearts  to  thee.  When  in  health  and  safety  we  break  thy 
commands  and  neglect  our  duty,  and  then  when  danger 


64  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

comes,  and  no  arm  "but  thine  can  help,  we  are  ashamed  and 
afraid  to  come  to  thee.  But  0,  our  Father,  let  not  one  of 
us  hesitate  now.  We  thank  thee  for  teaching  us,  by  so  irre- 
sistible a  proof,  how  dependent  we  are  upon  thee.  May  we 
all  be  willing  to  learn  the  lesson,  and  may  we  bow  humbly 
before  thee  now,  even  if  we  have  never  bowed  before. 

11  "We  come  to  ask  that  thou  wilt  protect  us  in  this  dan- 
ger, and  bring  us  safely  to  our  homes.  Thou  canst  protect 
from  greater  dangers  than  these.  Wilt  thou  protect  us. 
Save  us  from  finding  our  watery  grave  here  in  the  deep,  and 
save  our  beloved  parents  and  brothers  and  sisters,  at  home, 
from  the  anxiety  they  must  even  now  feel,  and  from  th& 
ano-uish  such  tidings  of  our 'destruction  must  give.  Almighty 
Father,  save  us,  we  pray  thee. 

"  Nevertheless,  not  our  will,  but  thine  be  done.  We  see 
but  a  part,  and  thou  seest  the  whole.  If  thou  seest  it  to  be 
best  that  we  should  go  down  here  to  a  watery  grave,  we 
would  acquiesce  in  thy  will.  We  have  solemnly  given  our- 
selves to  thee,  and  chosen  thee  for  our  portion.  We  have — ■ 
if  we  love  thee  at  all — committed  ourselves  to  thy  care  and 
to  thy  disposal.  We  have  rejoiced  in  this  dependence  upon 
thee  when  we  have  been  in  health  and  safety,  and  we  will 
not  shrink  from  our  covenant  to  be  thine,  now  we  are  in 
danger.  Do  with  us  as  seemeth  good  in  thy  sight,  only  give 
to  us  all  a  calm  and  happy  acquiescence  in  thy  will.  Par- 
don our  sins,  so  that  we  may  be  at  peace  with  thee  ;  and 
whether  we  are  to  live  or  die,  may  our  hearts  be  thine, 
through  Christ  our  Redeemer.     Amen." 

Such  may  have  been  the  spirit  of  the  prayer.  Such  1 
presume  was  the  spirit  of  the  petition  offered  on  this  occa- 
sion. Every  heart  which  will  sincerely  offer  such  a  prayer 
when  in  danger,  will -feel  relieved  from  its  solicitude  and 
fear.  I  am  aware  that  in  a  case  of  imminent  exposure  of 
life,  the  terror  excited  is  often  a  physical  feeling  which  moral 


PRAYER.  65 

causes  will  not  fully  control.  Still,  this  calm  acquiescence 
in  God's  superior  wisdom  and  power  will  do  more  than  any 
other  feeling  can  to  produce  peace. 

III.  Sincerity  in  prayer.  Prayer  is,  in  all  ordinary 
cases,  and  it  ought  to  be,  a  calm  and  peaceful  exercise,  not 
an  agitating  one.  Many  persons  waste  the  hour  of  prayer 
in  trying  to  feel  some  deep  agitation,  imagining  that  sincere 
and  acceptable  prayer  cannot  be  offered  without  it.  You 
must  be  sincere  when  you  pray,  but  you  may  be  calm.  Read 
our  Saviour's  model  of  prayer  :  "  Our  Father  who  art  in 
heaven,  hallowed  be  thy  name.  Thy  kingdom  come ;  thy 
will  be  -done  on  earth  as  it  is  in  heaven.  Give  us  this  day 
our  daily  bread,"  etc.  What  a  peaceful,  quiet  spirit  it 
breathes.  The  great  question  in  regard  to  your  prayer  being 
acceptable,  is  this :  Do  you  wish  for  any  thing  which  you 
know  no  one  but  God  can  grant,  and  are  you  willing  to  ask 
him  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  ?  If  so,  come  at  once  and 
ask  him.  Ask  with  that  degree  of  feeling  which  your  inter- 
est hi  the  request  prompts,  and  no  more.  If  you  wish  to 
increase  your  feeling,  you  cannot  do  it  in  any  way  except 
by  increasing  your  interest  in  the  request.  You  may  give 
additional  vividness  to  your  i^lea  of  the  value  of  the  object 
sought  by  thinking  of  it,  and  considering  how  great  a  bless- 
ing it  would  be  to  you  if  granted,  and  thus  you  may  increase 
your  ardor  in  prayer.  But  all  direct  attempts  to  produce 
this  ardor  by  effort  will  fail ;  or  if  they  succeed  in  producing 
some  sort  of  excitement,  it  is  not  a  healthy,  acceptable 
interest  in  prayer. 

Now,  after  this  explanation,  those  who  read  this  can 
easily  tell  whether  they  are  prepared  to  offer,  this  night, 
acceptable  prayer  to  God.  Do  you  wish  to  have  God  take 
care  of  you  while  you  sleep  ?  I  do  not  mean,  do  you  wish 
to  be  safe — every  body  wishes  to  be  safe  ;  but  do  you  wish 
to  have  God  at  your  bedside,  protecting  you  ?  If  you  do 
not,  if  the  feeling  of  his  presence  would  be  a  burden  to  you 


6G  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

and  a  restraint,  of  course  you  will  not  ask  him  to  come. 
But  suppose  you  are  desirous  of  having  him  present,  are  you 
then  willing  to  ask  him  ?  I  do  not  inquire  whether  you  are 
willing  to  struggle  a  long  time  with  your  heart  to  awaken 
deep  feeling  enough  to  justify,  in  your  opinion,  coming  to 
God.  Are  you  willing,  as  you  retire  to  rest  to-night,  to 
breathe  a  short  and  simple  petition  to  God  to  come  and  be 
your  friend  and  protector  for  the  night,  to  acknowledge  that 
you  do  not  deserve  his  protection,  and  that  you  ask  it  in 
the  name  of  Jesus  Christ  ?  If  you  are  willing  to  do  this, 
and  if  you  actually  do  it,  and  if  you  ask  with  that  degree 
of  feeling  which  a  sincere  desire  for  God's  protection  prompts, 
you  may  he  down  in  peace,  sure  that  you  have  offered 
acceptable  prayer. 

But  here  I  must  mention  a  difficulty  which,  many  and 
many  a  time,  has  been  brought  to  me  by  serious-minded  per- 
sons who  wish  to  pray  to  God,  but  who  think  they  should 
not  pray  aright.  I  presume  this  difficulty  has  occurred  to 
many  who  will  read  this  chapter.  I  fancy  I  can  perceive 
thoughts  like  these  passing  through  the  mind  of  some  thought- 
ful, conscientious  one,  who  has  taken  up  this  book  honestly 
desiring  to  find  in  it  religious  instruction. 

"If  I  understand  the  author  right,  he  says  that  if  I  to- 
night pray  to  God  to  protect  me,  just  because  I  want  pro- 
tection, or  rather,  because  I  want  his  protection,  that  will  be 
acceptable  prayer.  But  it  seems  to  me  that  it  would  be 
mere  selfishness.  I  wish  for  a  great  many  things  which  I 
know  none  but  God  can  grant,  but  if  I  ask  them  only  be- 
cause I  feel  the  need  of  them,  it  is  only  a  selfish  desire  for 
my  own  happiness,  and  I  cannot  expect  to  be  heard.  I  long 
for  such  a  friend  as  Jesus  Christ,  that  I  may  come  to  him 
in  all  my  trials  and  troubles,  and  seek  strength  from  him  in 
temptation.  But  then  this  is  all  love  of  my  own  happi- 
ness. I  cannot  be  happy  in  sin  ;  it  is  odious  to  me  :  there 
is   a  foreboding  and  a  burden  from  which   I  wish  to   be 


PRAYER.  67 

relieved.  But  unless  I  have  a  higher  motive  than  a  wish  to 
obtain  peace  and  happiness  hi  Christ,  I  cannot  expect  to  be 
heard." 

I  have  no  doubt  there  are  some  who  are  substantially  in 
this  state  of  mind.  They  are  deterred  by  this  difficulty  from 
coming  cordially  to  their  great  Friend  above.  I  have  stated 
the  difficulty  as  distinctly  and  fully  as  I  can,  adopting  as 
nearly  as  possible  the  words  in  which  it  has  often  been  pre- 
sented to  me.  I  hope  you  will  attend  carefully  to  my  reply, 
and  if  it  is  satisfactory  now,  lay  it  up  in  your  memories,  and 
never  be  embarrassed  by  this  difficulty  again. 

My.  reply  is  substantially  tins  :  that  a  genuine  desire  for 
the  peace  and  happiness  of  piety  is  a  perfectly  proper  motive 
for  coming  to  God.  It  is  the  motive  which  the  Bible  every- 
where presents.  It  is  not,  in  any  proper  sense  of  the  term, 
selfishness. 

First,  it  is  a  perfectly  proper  motive.  God  is  our  great 
Creator  and  Protector,  and  he  made  us  weak  and  dependent, 
but  desirous  of  peace  and  happiness,  for  the  very  purpose  of 
having  us  look  to  him  for  it.  He  never  intended  to  make  a 
universe  of  stoics,  in  which  each  one  should  be  entirely  indif- 
ferent about  his  own  happiness.  The  spectacle  which  he 
wishes  to  see  is  all  happy,  and  all  happy  in  him.  He 
wishes  us  to  desire  and  seek  true  happiness,  and  to  come  to 
him  for  it ;  and  the  very  existence  of  such  a  desire  in  you  is 
the  work  of  his  renewing  Spirit. 

Again,  the  Bible  everywhere  presents  the  peace  and 
happiness  of  piety  as  the  motive  why  we  should  seek  it. 
Jesus  stood  and  cried  in  a  great  concourse  of  people,  "  Come 
unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor,  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will 
give  you  rest."  How  strange  that  any  one  can  imagine  after 
this,  that  a  love  of  the  rest  Christ  will  give,  and  a  desire  to 
be  relieved  of  ouv  burden  of  sin,  is  not  a  proper  motive  for 
coming  to  Jesus  Christ.  The  prodigal  son,  perhaps  the  most 
striking  and  complete  emblem  of  the  penitent  sinner  which 


68  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

the  Bible  contains,  says,  "  How  many  hired  servants  of  my 
father  have  bread  enough  and  to  spare,  while  I  perish  with 
hunger ;  I  will  arise,  and  go  to  my  father."  Who  would 
think,  after  reading  this  parable,  that  any  sinner  would  be 
afraid  to  come  to  the  Saviour  because  his  motive  is  to  have 
his  wants  supplied  ?  Look  at  the  thousands  who  came  to 
our  Saviour  to  be  healed  of  their  diseases,  or  to  be  rescued 
from  some  suffering.  Did  he  ever  turn  them  away  because 
they  came  for  their  own  benefit  ?  A  nobleman  once  came. 
His  son  was  at  the  point  of  death.  Parental  affection  urged 
him  on.  He  came  and  begged  the  Saviour  to  come  and  save 
his  son.  He  was  so  far  from  being  under  the  influence  of 
any  high  philosophical  notions  of  faith  and  disinterestedness, 
that  when  the  Saviour  began  to  speak  of  faith  and  the  influ- 
ence of  miracles  upon  it,  he  almost  interrupted  him  by  say- 
ing, "  Come  down,  ere  my  child  die."  And  did  the  Saviour 
repulse  him,  and  say  he  was  influenced  by  wrong  motives  ? 
He  wanted  happiness,  and  he  was  willing  to  come  to  Jesus 
Christ  for  it.  And  God  wishes  to  see  the  whole  human 
race  eager  for  the  pure  j.oys  of  piety,  and  nocking  around  his 
throne  to  obtain  them.  0,  if  any  of  you  are  weary  of  the 
burden  of  sin,  and  long  for  the  peace  and  happiness  of  piety, 
come  boldly  for  it.  Never  fear  that  God  will  call  it  selfish- 
ness, and  drive  you  away. 

Once  more  :  I  said  this  could  not  be  called  selfishness  ; 
desiring  the  happiness  of  true  religion,  and  taking  the  proper 
means  to  obtain  it  from  God,  cannot  properly  be  called  self- 
ishness. Suppose  two  children,  whose  parents  had  taught 
them  habits  of  regularity  and  order  so  fully,  that  they  rake 
pleasure  in  the  systematic  arrangement  of  all  their  dttle 
property,  come  and  ask  their  father  to  let  them  have  a  large 
desk  which  stands  useless  in  the  garret,  to  bring  to  their 
little  room  as  a  place  of  deposit  for  their  books  and  papers 
and  toys.  Suppose  now  he  should  inquire  of  the  boys,  and 
should  find  that  they  have  planned  the  disposal  of  their  effects 


PRAYER.  69 

exactly  in  the  shelves  and  drawers  of  the  desk,  and  are  an- 
ticipating much  enjoyment  from  the  expected  acquisition. 
He  sees  their  countenances  brightened  with  animation  as 
they  wait  breathlessly  to  catch  his  answer,  and  then  to  fly 
away  and  commence  the  removal.  Now  suppose  the  father 
should  stop  them  by  such  absurd  words  as  these  : 

"  My  boys,  I  am  very  sorry  to  find  that  you  are  so  selfish. 
I  strongly  suspect  that  the  reason  why  you  want  that  desk 
is,  because  you  expect  some  pleasure  from  it.  Perhaps  you 
think  you  will  enjoy  your  property  more  by  seeing  it  well 
arranged  in  such  a  good  storehouse,  or  perhaps  you  think 
you  can  spend  rainy  afternoons  in  your  room  more  pleasantly 
if  you  have  it.  Now  that  is  very  wrong  ;  that  is  selfishness. 
To  desire  any  thing  for  the  sake  of  the  happiness  which  it 
affords,  is  selfishness.  Unless  you  can  ask  for  some  better 
motive  than  that,  I  cannot  grant  your  requests." 

I  do  not  think  that  any  gravity  of  countenance  which 
could  be  assumed  would  lead  the  boys  to  imagine  that  their 
father  could  be  serious  in  this.  Certainly  no  parent  would 
ever  say  it ;  and  if  earthly  parents  know  how  to  give  good 
gifts  to  their  children,  "how  much  more  shall  your  heavenly 
Father  give  the  Holy  Spirit  to  them  that  ask  him  ?''  that  is, 
to  them  that  ask  him  for  it  as  a  good  gift — something  which 
is  to  do  good  to  them. 

But  what  is  selfishness  ?  Why,  if  the  desk,  instead  of 
lying  useless  in  the  garret,  was  used  by  the  older  brothers, 
and  the  younger  wished  to  take  it  away,  that  would  be  self- 
ishness. A  disposition  to  encroach  upon  the  claims  of  God, 
or  upon  the  rights  of  others,  in  order  to  secure  our  own 
pleasure,  is  selfishness  ;  and  we  must  not  come  to  God  with 
this  spirit.  If  any  one,  however,  desires  peace  and  happi- 
ness, and  is  satisfied  that  God  only  can  give  it,  let  him  come 
and  ask.  "  Ho,  every  one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the 
waters."  God  never  will  repulse  you  because  thirst  urges 
you  to  come. 


70  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

IV.  Faith  in  prayer.  It  is  a  very  common  impression 
among  young  persons,  and  perhaps  some  of  mature  minds 
are  not  entirely  free  from  the  same  perplexity,  that  in  order 
to  render  prayer  acceptable,  the  Christian  must  have  a  full 
belief  that  his  request  will  be  granted.  This  is  called  the 
prayer  of  faith.  Hence  many  persons,  when  they  strongly 
desire  some  spiritual  blessing  for  themselves  or  others,  make 
a  great  deal  of  effort  while  they  pray  for  it,  to  believe  that 
they  shall  receive  it.  Come  with  me  to  the  morning  prayer- 
meeting.  A  few  Christians  whose  duties  of  business  press 
upon  them  during  the  day,  assemble  by  the  gray  light  of  the 
dawn  around  the  early  fire  of  some  Christian  neighbor. 
They  read  and  reflect  a  moment  upon  a  few  verses  of  the 
Bible.  They  sing  a  hymn,  and  are  just  about  to  kneel 
before  God  to  unite  in  prayer  for  his  blessing  upon  them- 
selves and  upon  their  families  and  neighbors  during  the  day, 
when  perhaps  one  of  the  number  addresses  the  meeting  as 
follows  : 

"  My  brethren,  we  come  this  morning  to  ask  great  bless- 
ings, but  we  ?ni(St  have  faith,  or  we  cannot  expect  that  God 
will  hear  us.  He  has  promised  to  hear  us,  and  to  give  us 
whatever  Ave  ask,  believing.  Let  us  believe,  then,  firmly 
and  cordially,  that  God  will  hear  us.  And  let  us  ask  for 
great  blessings.  God  is  ready  to  give  us  the  greatest,  if  we 
only  have  faith."' 

They  then  unite  in  prayer,  and  there  kneels  with  them, 
in  a  corner  of  the  room,  unnoticed  perhaps  by  all  but  God, 
a  young  disciple,  who  understands  the  exhortation  which 
was  given,  to  mean  that  she  must  fully  believe  that  the 
I  sssinga  to  be  asked  will  certainly  be  granted.  She  tries, 
therefore,  as  she  listens  to  the  words  of  the  prayer,  to  believe 
this.  Perhaps  the  first  request  is,  that  God  would  pour  out 
his  Spirit  upon  all  present,  and  purify  them,  and  keep  them 
that  day  devoted  to  his  service  and  free  from  all  sin.  Xow 
she  thinks  it  right  to  pray  for  this ;  she  sincerely  desires  it, 


PRAYER.  71 

but  she  cannot  really  believe  that  it  will  be  fully  granted. 
Then  she  reproves  herself  for  her  unbelief;  that  is,  for  the 
feeling  that  it  is  not  probable  that  all  present  will  be  per- 
fectly pure  and  holy  during  that  day.  She  struggles  against 
this  feeling,  but  she  cannot  conquer  it.  Belief  rests  on  evi- 
dence, not  on  determination. 

The  next  petition  is  for  a  powerful  revival  of  pure  relig- 
ion in  that  neighborhood  ;  that,  by  a  divine  influence  exerted 
over  their  hearts,  Christians  may  be  led  to  love  their  Maker 
more  and  to  serve  him  better ;  and  that  those  who  are  living 
in  sin  may  universally  be  awakened  to  a  conviction  of  their 
guilt  and  danger,  and  be  persuaded  to  serve  Jehovah.  Now 
our  young  Christian  sincerely  desires  this — she  hopes  for  it ; 
but  she  is  distressed  because  she  cannot  cordially  believe  that 
it  will  certainly  come,  and  she  considers  this  feeling  a  want 
of  faith.  She  rises  from  her  posture  of  devotion  anxious  and 
unhappy,  because  she  does  not  feel  absolutely  sure  that  what 
she  has  asked  is  on  the  whole  for  the  best,  and  that  it  will 
certainly  be  granted. 

Now  all  her  difficulty  arises  from  misunderstanding  the 
nature  of  the  faith  which  ought  to  be  exercised  in  prayer. 
The  remarks  made  meant,  or  they  ought  to  have  meant, 
that  we  are  to  come  to  God  confident  that  he  will  do  icliat 
is  on  the  whole  for  the  best — not  positive  that  he  will  do 
exactly  ivhat  ive  ask.  God  never  has  given  assemblies  of 
Christians  authority  to  mark  out  a  course  for  him  to  pursue 
in  such  a  sense  as  that  he  shall  be  bound  to  pursue  it.  He 
has  promised  to  give  us  what  we  ask ;  but  still  the  excep- 
tions, universally  understood  to  be  implied  by  this  language 
in  other  cases,  are  attached  to  it  in  this.  We  must  offer  our 
petitions,  trusting  in  God,  believing,  as  the  Bible  expresses 
it,  "  that  he  is,  and  that  he  is  the  rewarder  of  them  that 
diligently  seek  him ;"  but  after  we  have  offered  our  most 
earnest  requests,  we  must  leave  the  matter  with  him.  This 
is  what  is  meant  by  the  prayer  of  faith,  so  often  alluded  to 


72  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

by  Christian  ministers.  And  this  was  the  kind  of  faith  our 
Saviour  required  of  those  who  came  to  him  to  be  healed. 
"  Believest  thou,"  said  he,  "  that  I  am  able  to  do  this?"  not 
that  I  slw.ll  do  it.  When  the  apostles  and  brethren  came 
together  to  pray  for  Peter,  they  were  so  far  from  believing 
that  their  prayer  for  Ins  deliverance  would  be  granted,  that 
they  were  incredulous  when  they  saw  him.  They  trusted 
in  God,  and  believed  that  he  would  do  what  was  right. 
This  confidence  in  him  was  the  faith  they  exercised. 
"Believing  that  ye  shall  receive  them,"  then,  must  mean, 
believing  that  God  is  able  and  willing  to  grant,  except  in 
those  cases  where  imperious  reasons  compel  him  to  deny. 
He  sees  many  material  considerations  in  every  case  which 
are  entirely  beyond  our  view,  and  we  must  leave  him  to 
decide. 

It  is  very  often  said,  that  prayer  for  spiritual  blessings 
will  always  be  heard  and  granted.  True,  when  the  humble 
and  believing  penitent  asks  God  for  mercy  on  his  own  soul, 
his  prayer  is  never  denied  ;  but  when  we  ask  for  spiritual 
blessings  upon  others,  we  can  be  no  more  absolutely  certain 
of  a  direct  answer  than  in  asking  for  temporal  blessings. 
God  does  often  withhold  the  influences  of  his  Spirit,  as  we 
all  know  full  well.  Who  of  us  can  tell  what  are  the  causes  ? 
Look  at  yonder  mother.  She  has  an  only  son.  Her  first 
prayer  in  regard  to  him  was,  that  God  would  make  him  his. 
She  consecrated  him  to  his  Maker's  service  at  his  earliest 
breath.  She  rocked  him  to  sleep  in  infancy,  singing  a  hymn 
of  acknowledgment  that  he  was  the  Lord's.  As  soon  as  he 
could  understand  the  lesson,  she  taught  him  his  duty  to  his 
great  Creator.  She  has  often  knelt  with  him  in  prayer,  and 
her  whole  heart  is  set  upon  having  her  only  son  devoted  to 
the  service  of  God.  But  all  her  efforts  are  fruitless,  and  her 
prayers  are  not  answered.  Her  son  grows  up  in  indifference 
about  God,  which  perhaps  becomes,  when  he  has  arrived  at 
maturity,  open  hostility.     How  many  such  mothers  there 


PRAYER.  73 

are !  She  was  praying,  too,  for  spiritual  blessings,  for  the 
conversion  of  a  son  to  God ;  but  the  sovereign  Ruler  leaves 
him,  notwithstanding  these  supplications,  to  his  own  chosen 
way 

Yes,  God  is  a  Sovereign.  He  dispenses  all  his  favors  as 
he  himself  thinks  best.  He  listens  to  our  requests,  and  takes 
them  into  kind  consideration,  but  he  reserves  to  himself  the 
right  to  make  the  ultimate  decision.  Let  us  come  to  him, 
then,  with  filial  confidence,  and  with  a  deep  sense  of  our  need 
of  the  blessings  we  ask,  but  always  with  this  humble  feel- 
ing, that  God  sees  farther  than  we,  and  can  judge  better, 
and  that  he  will  himself  make  the  ultimate  decision  in  regard 
to  every  thing  we  ask. 

And  we  must  remember,  that  this  is  just  as  true  with 
regard  to  spiritual  blessings  as  to  any  other.  The  cause  of 
religion  advances  in  the  world,  through  a  blessing  on  the 
labors  of  Christians  to  spread  the  gospel,  in  a  manner  which 
we  cannot  predict  or  account  for.  But  every  one,  whatever 
may  be  his  ideas  of  the  boundlessness  of  human  freedom  or  hu- 
man responsibility,  acknowledges  that  the  determining  where 
the  gospel  shall  triumph  and  where  it  shall  fail,  and  regulat- 
ing its  progress  throughout  the  earth,  rests  in  the  hands  of 
the  Supreme.  Now  what  man  is  there  who  can  understand 
the  principles  which  guide  Jehovah  in  the  exercise  of  the 
power  which  he  so  obviously  possesses  ?  How  many  secretly 
think  that  the  sudden  conversion  of  a  whole  city,  perhaps,  to 
God  would  be  a  glorious  achievement  of  the  Redeemer,  and 
fancy  that  if  they  had  the  power  over  the  heart  which  God 
possesses,  they  would  produce  the  effect  at  once,  and  exhibit 
the  magnificent  spectacle  of  the  undisputed  reign  of  holiness 
and  peace  in  a  community  of  one  fiundred  thousand.  Sup- 
pose now  every  Christian  in  some  great  city  were  to  unite 
in  a  sincere  and  heartfelt  prayer  that  God  would  pour  out 
his  Spirit  universally  among  them,  and  in  a  single  day 
awaken  all  the  multitudes  around  them  to  piety.      It  is 

Y,  Christian,  4 


74  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

indeed  unquestionably  true,  that  if  this  united  prayer  should 
be  offered,  and  should  be  accompanied  by  the  efforts  which 
sincerity  in  the  prayer  would  insure,  most  uncommon  effects 
would  follow.  But  who  believes  that  the  whole  city  would 
be  converted  in  a  day  ?  No  one.  "VYhy  ?  Because  tins  is 
not  according  to  the  analogy  of  God's  working  in  spreading 
the  gospel.  And  why  does  he  not  work  in  this  way,  con- 
verting whole  communities  at  once,  leading  them  to  him  by 
his  own  direct  agency  upon  the  heart,  as  he  now  often  leads 
individuals  hi  silence  and  solitude  ?  Why  does  not  God  work 
in  this  manner  ?  Some  one  may  say,  because  Christians  are 
so  cold  and  negligent  in  duty.  Why  then  does  not  the  power 
which  raised  up  Paul  raise  up  thousands  like  him  now,  and 
enkindling  within  them  the  spirit  and  devotedness  of  the 
great  apostle,  send  them  forth  to  bring  the  world  at  once  to 
him  ?     Who  can  tell  ? 

No  ;  we  camiot  direct.  God  guides  by  his  own  wisdom 
the  chariot  of  his  coming.  We  can  ask,  but  we  cannot  dic- 
tate. If  we  attempt  to  take  the  reins,  we  find  them  far 
above  our  reach,  and  the  wheels  roll  on  where  God  points 
the  way. 

The  experienced  Christian  who  reads  these  remarks, 
intended  to  show  that  God  really  controls  and  directs  every 
thing  relating  to  the  progress  of  piety  in  the  world,  will  im- 
mediately say,  "How  liable  are  we  to  pervert  this  truth,  so 
as  to  excuse  our  own  neglect  of  duty."  Yes,  it  is  so.  Men 
are  everywhere  so  prone  to  throw  off  responsibility  from 
themselves,  that  the  minister  of  the  gospel  is  often  almost 
afraid  to  describe  fully  and  cordially  God's  supreme  power 
over  the  heart,  for  fear  that  men  will  lose  their  sense  of  their 
own  accountability.  A  mother  will  ask  that  God  will 
change  the  hearts  of  her  children,  and  sometimes  wait,  as 
she  expresses  it,  for  God's  time  to  come,  while  she  in  the 
meantime  does  nothing,  or  at  most  she  goes  over  the  same 
formal  round  of  duties,  without  any  of  that  spirit  and  enter- 


PRAYER.  75 

prise  and  ingenuity  which  she  would  exercise  if  she  knew 
that  something  depended  upon  her  own  efforts.     But  this 
perversion  of  scripture  truth  is  not  necessary  or  unavoidable. 
However  difficult  it  may  be  for  us  to  understand  how  man 
can  be  fully  free  and  fully  accountable,  while  God  retains  so 
much  direct  power  over  his  heart  as  the  Bible  so  distinctl) 
describes,  it  is  possible  cordially  to  feel  the  accountability, 
and  at  the  same  time  sincerely  to  acknowledge  the  depend- 
ence.    Look  at  the  case  of  that  Christian  teacher.     She 
prays  most  earnestly  that  God  would  come  and  bless  the 
school  to  which  she  belongs.     She  brings  individual  cases  in 
secrecy,  and  solitude  before  God.     She  prays  that  faults  may 
be  forgiven,  froward  dispositions  softened,  and  all  brought 
under  the  influence  of  Christian  love.     She  asks  that  God 
will  pour  out  his  Spirit  and  diffuse  peace  and  happiness  over 
the  school-room,  improving  every  character,  purifying  and 
ennobling  every  heart,  and  making  the  dejected  happy  and 
the  happy  happier  still.     She  has  seen  such  an  influence 
diffused  over  a  school — she  knows  it  is  from  above,  and  she 
looks  to  Him  who  rules  human  hearts  to  come  into  her  circle 
with  his  benign  influences  once  more.     Now,  does  she  after 
this  go  away  and  spend  her  time  in  inaction,  on  the  ground 
that  God  only  can  change  the  heart,  and  that  she  has  done 
all  in  her  power  by  bringing  the  case  to  him  ?     No  ;  she 
comes  to  her  morning  duties  in  the  school-room  with  a  heart 
full  of  desire  to  do  something  to  promote  what  she  has  asked 
God  to  bestow.     And  she  does  accomplish  something.     By 
her  kindness  she  wins  her  companions  to  her  confidence  and 
love,  and  in  thousand  nameless  ways  which  never  can  be 
described,  but  which  a  heart  full  of  love  will  always  be  dis- 
covering, she  carries  forward  very  effectually  in  her  little 
circle  the  cause  for  which  she  prays. 

It  is  so  universally.  When  a  minister  allows  his  sense 
of  his  entire  dependence  on  God  to  become  feeble  or  indis- 
tinct, his  efforts,  instead  of  increasing,  diminish.     It  may  be 


70  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN; 

called  the  Cfhristian  paradox,  that  he  who,  in  theory,  ascribes 
least  efficacy  to  human  efforts,  and  most  to  the  Spirit  of  God, 
in  the  salvation  of  men,  is  ordinarily  most  indefatigable  in 
those  very  efforts  which  he  knows  are  of  themselves  utterly 
fruitless  and  vain. 

And  here  I  must  close  this  chapter  by  urging  my  readers 
to  commence  immediately  the  practice  of  bringing  all  their 
wants  and  cares  to  God.  I  trust  some  have  been  per- 
suaded by  it  to  do  so.  The  following  texts,  prayerfully 
consulted,  may  afford  them  direction  and  encouragement : 
Psa.  145  :  18  ;  Matt.  7:7-11;  John  14  :  13  ;  Eph.  3  :  20, 
21;  Phil.  4:6,  7;  Heb.  4:14-16;  10:19-22;  James 
1  :  5-7. 

Some  of  my  young  readers,  however,  probably  wish  to 
know  what  became  of  the  packet-ship  which  I  left  in  immi- 
nent danger  out  in  the  bay ;  for  that  narrative  is  substan- 
tially true,  though  I  was  not  an  eye-witness  of  the  scene. 
When  I  left  them  they  were  tossing  about  upon  the  waves ; 
the  storm  was  increasing,  the  captain  had  almost  given 
them  over  for  lost,  and  those  of  the  passengers  who  were 
not  prepared  to  die  were  greatly  agitated  by  remorse  and 
terror.  Things  continued  in  this  state  for  some  hours,  and 
very  few  of  those  on  board  expected  to  see  another  morning. 
The  passengers  in  the  cabin,  however,  before  long  perceived 
that  the  violence  of  the  tempest  was  a  little  abating ;  the 
thunder  of  the  wind  and  waves  grew  somewhat  less ;  and 
though  the  pitching  and  tossing  of  the  ship  rather  increased 
than  diminished,  they  began  to  cherish  a  little  hope  ;  some 
of  the  number  even  fell  into  a  troubled  sleep. 

At  last  there  were  indications  of  the  morning.  The 
dim  form  of  objects  in  the  cab  hi  began  to  be  a  little  more 
distinct.  The  gray  light  of  day  looked  down  through  the 
narrow  window  of  the  deck.  As  the  passengers  aroused 
themselves,  one  after  another,  and  looked  forth  from  their 
berths,  they  perceived  at  once  that  the  danger  was  over. 


PRAYER.  77 

They  went  to  the  deck,  clinging  to  something  firm  for  sup- 
port, for  the  wind  was  still  brisk,  and  the  sea  still  heaved 
and  tumbled  in  great  commotion.  But  the  danger  was  over. 
The  sky  was  clear.  A  broad  zone  of  light  extended  itself 
in  the  east,  indicating  the  approaching  sun ;  and  not  man) 
miles  distant  there  was  extended  a  level  sandy  shore  lined 
with  dwellings,  and  opening  to  a  small  harbor,  filled  with 
vessels  which  had  sought  shelter  there  from  the  fury  of  the 
storm.  It  was  Provincetown,  at  the  extremity  of  the  Cape. 
I  need  not  say  that  the  passengers  and  crew  assembled  once 
more  at  the  throne  of  grace  before  they  landed,  to  give 
thanks  to  God  for  having  heard  their  prayer  and  granted 
them  protection. 


78  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 


CHAPTER   IY. 

CONSEQUENCES  OF  NEGLECTING  DUTY. 
"  If  ye  know  these  things,  happy  are  ye  if  ye  do  them." 

I  have  now,  in  the  several  chapters  which  the  reader 
has  already  had  the  opportunity  of  perusing,  endeavored 
clearly  to  explain  the  first  steps  to  be  taken  in  Christian 
duty,  and  the  principles  and  feelings  by  which  they  ought  to 
be  guided,  and  I  think  that  all  who  have  read  these  pages 
must  have  understood  clearly  and  distinctly  what  they  ought 
to  do.  Take,  for  example,  the  subject  of  the  first  chapter — 
Confession.  You  cannot  read  or  even  think  upon  that  sub- 
ject for  half  an  hour,  without  seeing  plainly  that  you  have 
disobeyed  God  again  and  again,  and  that  you  have,  by  thus 
doing  what  you  know  to  be  wrong,  destroyed  your  peace  of 
mind  and  displeased  your  Maker.  This  no  one  can  deny. 
There  is  a  vast  variety  of  religious  opinion  and  religious  con- 
troversy in  the  world,  but  I  believe  no  sect,  believing  the 
existence  of  the  Deity,  was  ever  heard  of,  which  maintained 
that  man  does  not  do  wrong,  or  that  he  ought  not  to  ac- 
knowledge his  sins  to  God. 

But  when  you  saw  clearly  that  you  had  done  wrong, 
and  destroyed  your  peace,  did  you  go  and  seek  this  reconcil- 
iation? How  many  probably  read  that  chapter,  and  dis- 
tinctly understood  what  duty  it  urged  upon  them,  and  saw 
the  reasonableness  of  that  duty,  and  yet  shut  the  book  and 
laid  it  away,  without  ever  intending  at  all  to  set  resolutely 
about  doing  it.  To  understand  clearly  what  duty  is,  and  to 
have  a  disposition  to  do  it,  are  very  different  things. 

I  have  during  the  preceding  chapters  been  explaining 
what  the  duty  of  my  readers  is.  I  have  said  scarcely  any 
thing  to  persuade  you  to  do  it,  and  as  I  have  gone  on  from 


CONSEQUENCES  OF  NEGLECTING-  DUTY.        70 

page  to  page,  and  endeavored  so  to  explain  and  illustrate  , 
the  principles  of  piety  that  every  one  could  clearly  under- 
stand, the  melancholy  reflection  has  often  forced  itself  upon 
me,  "  How  many  now  will  read  or  hear  read  these  things, 
and  yet  entirely  neglect  to"  do  any  thing  I  describe."  :-  Mel- 
ancholy  reflection !"  you  nerhaps  will  say ;  "why  do  you  call 
it  a  melancholy  reflection  ?  If  some  are  induced  to  do  their 
duty  in  consequence  of  your  explanations,  you  may  rejoice  in 
the  good  which  is  done,  and  not  think  at  all  of  those  who 
disregard  what  you  say.  The  book  will  certainly  do  them 
no  harm." 

"Will  do  them  no  harm?  I  wish  that  could  be  true. 
But  it  is  not.  The  religious  teacher  cannot  console  himself 
with  the  thought,  that  when  his  efforts  do  no  good,  they  will 
do  no  harm.  For  he  must,  if  he  speaks  distinctly,  and 
brings  fairly  forward  a  subject  of  duty,  cause  every  one  of 
Ins  readers  to  decide  for  it  or  against  it;  and  when  a  person 
decides  against  duty,  is  he  not  injured  ?  Is  not  good  princi- 
ple defeated  or  weakened,  and  Ins  heart  hardened  against  a 
future  appeal  ? 

The  chapter  on  Confession  of  Sin,  for  example,  has  been 
undoubtedly  read  by  many  who  shut  the  book  and  laid  it 
aside  without  at  all  attempting  to  perform  the  duty  there 
pointed  out.  The  duty  was  plainly  brought  before  them. 
They  could  not,  and  probably  would  not,  deny  its  obligation. 
But  instead  of  going  accordingly  to  God,  and  seeking  peace 
and  reconciliation  to  him  by  a  free  confession  of  guilt,  and 
faith  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ,  they  laid  the  book  away,  and 
after  a  very  short  time  all  the  serious  thoughts  it  suggested 
vanished  from  their  minds,  and  they  returned  as  before  to 
their  sins.  Now  this  is  deciding  once  more,  distinctly  against 
God. 

For,  to  decide  against  God,  it  is  not  necessary  to  use  the 
actual  language  of  disobedience.  Suppose  that  a  father 
sends  a  child  to  call  back  his  little  sister,  who  is  going  away 


80  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

contrary  to  her  father's  wishes.  The  boy  runs  and  over- 
takes her,  and  delivers  his  message.  The  child  stops  a  mo- 
ment, and  listens  to  the  command  that  she  should  return 
immediately  to  her  home.  She  hesitates — thinks  of  her 
father  and  of  her  duty  to  obey  him,  and  then  looks  over  the 
green  fields  through  which  she  was  walking,  and  longs  tc 
enjoy  the  forbidden  pleasure.  There  is  a  momentary  strug- 
gle in  her  heart,  and  then  she  turns  away  and  walks  boldly 
and  carelessly  on.  The  messenger  returns  slowly  and  sadly 
home. 

But  why  does  he  return  sadly  ?  He  has  done  his  duty 
in  delivering  the  message ;  why  should  he  be  sad  ?  He  is 
sad  to  think  of  the  double  guilt  which  his  sister  has  incurred 
He  thinks  that  the  occasion  which  Ins  coming  up  to  her  pre- 
sented, might  have  been  the  means  of  her  return  and  of  her 
forgiveness,  but  that  it  was  the  means  of  confirming  her  in 
disobedience,  and  of  hardening  her  heart  against  the  claims 
of  her  father. 

It  is  just  so  with  the  messages  which  a  Christian  teacher 
brings  to  those  who  listen  to  his  words.  If  they  do  not  listen 
to  obey,  they  listen  to  reject  and  disobey,  and  every  refusal 
to  do  duty  hardens  the  heart  in  sin.  There  can  be  no  ques- 
tion, therefore,  that  such  a  book  as  this  must,  in  many  cases, 
be  the  innocent  means  of  fixing  human  souls  in  their  sins  ; 
as  the  gospel  itself,  while  it  is  a  savor  of  life  unto  life  to 
some,  to  others  is  a  savor  of  death  unto  death. 

Reader,  is  your  name  on  the  sad  catalogue  of  those  who 
read  religious  books  and  listen  to  religious  instruction  merely 
to  bring  the  question  of  duty  again  and  again  before  your 
minds,  only  to  decide  that  you  will  not  do  it  ?  If  it  is,  read 
and  consider  attentively  the  narrative  to  which  the  remain- 
der of  this  chapter  is  devoted.  It  has  never  before  been 
published.  I  providentially  met  with  it  in  manuscript  while 
writing  these  chapters,  and  it  teaches  so  forcibly  the  lesson 
that  ought  now  to  be  impressed  upon  my  readers,  that  I 


CONSEQUENCES  OF  NEGLECTING  DUTY.         81 

requested  of  the  clergyman  who  wrote  it  permission  to  insert 
it  here.  The  circumstances  are  of  recent  occurrence,  and 
the  reader  may  rely  upon  the  strict  truth  and  faithfulness  of 
the  description. 

The  reader  will  observe,  however,  that  there  are  no 
remarkable  incidents  in  this  case.  There  are  no  peculiar 
circumstances  of  any  kind  to  give  interest  to  the  narrative. 
It  is  only  a  plain  common  instance,  such  as  are  occurring  all 
around  us  by  tens  of  thousands,  of  the  consequences  of  being 
only  almost  persuaded  to  be  a  Christian. 

STORY  OF  LOUISA. 

"  Shortly  after  my  settlement  in  the  ministry,  I  observed 
in  the  congregation  a  young  lady  whose  blooming  counte- 
nance and  cheerful  air  showed  perfect  health  and  high  ela- 
tion of  spirits.  Her  appearance  satisfied  me  at  once  that 
she  was  amiable  and  thoughtless.  There  was  no  one  of  my 
charge  whose  prospects  for  long  life  were  more  promising 
than  her  own,  and  perhaps  no  one  who  looked  forward  to 
the  future  with  more  pleasing  hopes  of  enjoyment.  To  hei 
eye  the  world  seemed  bright.  She  often  said  she  wished  to 
enjoy  more  of  it  before  she  became  a  Christian. 

"  Louisa — for  by  that  name  I  shall  call  her — manifested 
no  particular  hostility  to  religion,  but  wished  to  live  a  gay 
and  merry  life  till  just  before  her  death,  and  then  to  become 
pious  and  die  happy.  She  was  constant  in  her  attendance 
at  church,  and  while  others  seemed  moved  by  the  exhibition 
of  the  Saviour's  love,  she  seemed  entirely  unaffected.  Upon 
whatever  subject  I  preached,  her  countenance  retained  the 
same  marks  of  indifference  and  unconcern.  The  same  easy 
smile  played  upon  her  features,  whether  sin  or  death,  or 
heaven  or  hell,  was  the  theme  of  discourse.  One  evening  I 
invited  a  few  of  the  young  ladies  of  my  society  to  meet  at 
my  house.  She  came  with  her  companions.  I  had  sought 
the  interview  with  them,  that  I  might  more  directly  urge 

4* 


82  THE   YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

upon  them  the  importance  of  religion.     All  in  the  room 
were  affected — and  she,  though  evidently  moved,  endeav 
ored  to  conceal  her  feelings. 

"  The  interest  in  this  great  subject  manifested  by  those 
present  was  such,  that  I  informed  them  that  I  would  meet, 
in  a  week  from  that  time,  any  who  wished  for  personal 
conversation.  The  appointed  evening  arrived,  and  I  was 
delighted  in  seeing,  with  two  or  three  others,  Louisa  enter 
my  house. 

"  I  conversed  with  each  one  individually.  They  gener- 
ally, with  much  frankness,  expressed  their  state  of  feeling. 
Most  of  them  manifested  much  solicitude  respecting  their 
eternal  interests.  Louisa  appeared  different  from  all  the 
rest.  She  was  anxious  and  unable  to  conceal  her  anxiety, 
and  yet  ashamed  to  have  it  known.  She  had  come  to  con- 
verse with  me  upon  the  subject  of  religion,  and  yet  was 
making  an  evident  effort  to  appear  indifferent.  I  had  long 
felt  interested  in  Louisa,  and  was  glad  of  this  opportunity  to 
converse  with  her. 

" ' Louisa,'  said  I,  'I  am  happy  to  see  you  here  this 
evening,  and  particularly  so,  as  you  have  come  interested 
in  the  subject  of  religion.' 

"  She  made  no  reply. 

" '  Have  you  been  long  thinking  upon  this  subject, 
Louisa?' 

" '  I  always  thought  the  subject  important,  sir,  but  have 
not  attended  to  it  as  I  suppose  I  ought.' 

"  '  Do  you  now  feel  the  subject  to  be  more  important 
than  you  have  previously  ?' 

"  '  I  don't  know,  sir  ;  I  think  I  want  to  be  a  Christian.' 

"  '  Do  you  feel  that  you  are  a  sinner,  Louisa  ?' 

"  '  I  know  that  I  am  a  sinner,  for  the  Bible  says  so  ;  but 
I  suppose  that  I  do  not  feel  it  enough.' 

"  '  Can  you  expect  that  God  will  receive  you  into  his 
favor  while  you  are  in  such  a  state  of  mind  ?     He  has  made 


CONSEQUENCES  OF  NEGLECTING  DUTY.        83 

you,  and  he  is  now  taking  care  of  you,  giving  you  ever^ 
blessing  and  every  enjoyment  you  have,  and  yet  you  have 
lived  many  years  without  any  gratitude  to  him,  and  contin- 
ually breaking  his  commandments,  and  now  do  not  feel  that 
fou  are  a  sinner.  What  would  you  think  of  a  child  whose 
kind  and  affectionate  parents  had  done  every  thing  in  their 
power  to  make  her  happy,  and  who  should  yet  not  feel  that 
she  had  done  any  thing  wrong,  though  she  had  been  every 
day  disobeying  her  parents,  and  had  never  expressed  any 
gratitude  for  their  kindness  ?  You,  Louisa,  would  abhor 
such  a  child.  And  yet  this  is  the  way  you  have  been  treat- 
ing your  heavenly  Father.  And  he  has  heard  you  say  this 
evening,  that  you  do  not  feel  that  you  have  done  wrong, 
and  he  sees  your  heart  and  knows  how  unfeeling  it  is.  Now, 
Louisa,  you  must  be  lost,  unless  you  repent  of  your  sins  and 
ask  humbly  and  earnestly  for  forgiveness.  And  why  will 
you  not  ?  You  know  that  Christ  has  died  to  atone  for  sin, 
and  that  God  will  forgive  you  for  his  Son's  sake,  if  you  are 
penitent.' 

"  To  this  Louisa  made  no  reply.  She  did  not  seem  dis- 
pleased, neither  did  her  feelings  appear  subdued. 

"  After  addressing  a  few  general  remarks  to  my  young 
friends,  we  kneeled  in  prayer,  and  the  interview  closed. 
Another  meeting  was  appointed  on  the  same  evening  of  the 
succeeding  week.  Louisa  again  made  her  appearance  with 
the  same  young  ladies  and  a  few  others.  She  appeared 
much  more  deeply  impressed.  Her  coldness  and  reserve  had 
given  place  to  a  frank  expression  of  interest  and  exhibition 
of  feeling. 

"  '  Well,  Louisa,'  said  I,  as  in  turn  I  commenced  con- 
versing with  her,  '  I  was  almost  afraid  I  should  not  see  you 
here  this  evening.' 

"  ■  I  feel,  sir,'  said  she,  '  that  it  is  time  for  me  to  attend 
to  my  immortal  soul.     I  have  neglected  it  too  long.' 

'"Do  you  feel  that  you  are  a  sinner,  Louisa  ?' 


84  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

"  '  Yes,  sir,  I  do.' 

"  '  Do  you  think,  Louisa,  you  have  any  claim  upon  God 

to  forgive  you  V 

"  '  Xo,  sir.  It  would  be  just  in  God  to  leave  me  to  per- 
ish. I  think  I  want  to  repent,  but  1  cannot.  I  want  to 
love  God,  but  do  not  know  how  I  can.' 

"  'Do  vou  remember,  Louisa,  that  Christ  has  said.  '  Who- 
soever he  be  of  you  that  forsaketh  not  all  that  he  hath,  he 
cannot  be  my  disciple  V 

"  '  Yes,  sir.' 

'"  Well,  Louisa,  now  count  the  cost;  are  you  ready  to 
give  up  all  for  Christ  ?  Are  you  ready  to  turn  from  your 
gay  companions,  and  lay  aside  your  frivolous  pleasures,  and 
acknowledge  the  Saviour  publicly,  and  be  derided,  as  per- 
haps vou  will  be,  by  your  former  friends,  and  live  a  life  of 
prayer  and  of  effort  to  glorify  God?' 

"  She  hesitated  for  a  moment,  and  then  replied,  '  I  am 
afraid  not.'  • 

"  '  Well,  Louisa,  the  terms  of  acceptance  with  God  are 
plain,  and  there  is  no  altering  them.  You  cannot  serve 
God  and  mammon.  If  you  would  be  a  Christian,  you  must 
renounce  all  sin,  and  with  a  broken  heart  surrender  yourself 
entirely  to  the  Saviour.' 

"The  evening's  interview  closed  as  before,  and  a  similar 
appointment  was  made  for  the  next  week.  Some  of  the 
young  ladies  present,  I  had  reason  to  believe,  had  accepted 
the  offer  of  salvation.  The  next  week  about  the  same  num- 
ber were  present,  but  Louisa  was  not  with  them  ;  a  slight 
cold  had  detained  her.  But  the  week  after  she  again  ap- 
peared. To  my  great  disappointment  I  found  her  interest 
diminishing.  Though  not  exhibiting  that  cold  reserve  which 
she  at  first  manifested,  she  seemed  far  less  anxious  than  at 
our  last  interview  :  the  Spirit  was  grieved  away.  This  was 
the  last  time  she  called  to  see  me  ;  but  alas,  I  was  soon 
called  to  see  her  under  circumstances  which  at  that  tim^ 


CONSEQUENCES  OF  NEG-LECTING-  DUTY.        85 

were  but  little  anticipated.  These  social  meetings  contin- 
ued for  some  time,  and  many  of  Louisa's  associates,  I  have 
cause  to  hope,  became  the  disciples  of  Jesus. 

"  Two  or  three  months  passed  away,  and  my  various 
duties  so  far  engrossed  my  mind  that  my  particular  intc  vest 
in  Louisa's  spiritual  welfare  had  given  place  to  other  solici- 
tudes ;  when  one  day  as  I  was  riding  out,  making  parochial 
visits,  one  of  my  parishioners  informed  me  that  she  was 
quite  unwell,  and  desired  to  see  me.  In  a  few  moments  I 
was  in  her  sick  chamber.  She  had  taken  a  violent  cold, 
and  it  had  settled  into  a  fever.  She  was  lying  hi  her  bed, 
her  cheek  glowing  with  the  feverish  hue,  and  her  lips 
parched  with  thirst.  She  seemed  agitated  when  I  entered 
the  room,  and  the  moment  I  stood  by  her  bedside  and  in- 
quired how  she  did,  she  covered  her  face  with  both  hands 
and  burst  into  a  flood  of  tears. 

"  Her  sister,  who  was  by  her  bedside,  immediately  turned 
to  me  and  said,  '  Sir,  she  is  in  great  distress  of  mind.  Mental 
agony  has  kept  her  awake  nearly  all  night.  She  has  wanted 
very  much  to  see  you,  that  you  might  converse  with  her.' 

"  I  was  fearful  that  the  agitation  of  her  feelings  might 
seriously  injure  her  health,  and  did  all  I  consistently  could 
to  soothe  and  quiet  her. 

"  '  But,  sir,'  said  Louisa,  '  I  am  sick,  and  may  die ;  I 
know  that  I  am  not  a  Christian ;  and  0,  if  I  die  in  this  state 
of  mind,  what  will  become  of  me  ?  What  will  become  of 
me  ?'  and  again  she  burst  into  tears. 

"  "What  could  I  say  ?  Every  word  she  said  was  true. 
Her  eyes  were  opened  to  her  danger.  There  was  cause  for 
alarm.  Sickness  was  upon  her.  Delirium  might  soon  ensue ; 
death  might  be  very  near ;  and  her  soul  was  unprepared  to 
appear  before  God.  She  saw  it  all ;  she  felt  it  all.  Fever 
was  burning  in  her  veins.  But  she  forgot  her  pain,  in  view 
of  the  terrors  of  approaching  judgment. 

"  I  told  her  that  the  Lord  was  good,  and  that  his  tendel 


86  THE   YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

mercies  were  over  all  his  works  ;  that  he  was  more  ready  to 
forgive  than  we  to  ask  forgiveness. 

"  '  But,  sir,'  said  she,  '  I  have  known  my  duty  long,  and 
have  not  done  it.  I  have  been  ashamed  of  the  Saviour,  and 
grieved  away  the  Spirit ;  and  now  I  am  upon  a  sick  bed,  and 
perhaps  must  die.  0,  if  I  were  but  a  Christian,  I  should  be 
willing  to  die.' 

"  I  told  her  of  the  Saviour's  love.  I  pointed  to  many  of 
God's  precious  promises  to  the  penitent.  I  endeavored  to 
induce  her  to  resign  her  soul  calmly  to  the  Saviour.  But  all 
was  unavailing.  Trembling  and  agitated  she  was  looking 
forward  to  the  dark  future.  The  Spirit  of  the  Lord  had 
opened  her  eyes,  and  through  her  own  reflections  had  led 
her  into  this  state  of  alarm.  I  knelt  by  her  bedside  and 
fervently  prayed  that  the  Holy  Spirit  would  guide  her  to 
the  truth,  and  that  the  Saviour  would  speak  peace  to  her 
troubled  soul.  0  could  they  who  are  postponing  repent- 
ance to  a  sick  bed,  have  witnessed  the  suffering  of  this  once 
merry  girl,  they  would  shudder  at  the  thought  of  trusting  to 
a  death-bed  repentance.  How  poor  a  time  to  prepare  to 
meet  God,  when  the  mind  is  enfeebled,  when  the  body  is 
restless  or  racked  with  pain,  and  when  mental  agitation 
frustrates  the  skill  of  the  physician.  Yet  so  it  is.  One  half 
the  world  are  postponing  repentance  to  a  dying  bed.  And 
when  sickness  comes,  the  very  circumstance  of  being  unpre- 
pared hurries  the  miserable  victim  to  the  grave. 

11  The  next  day  I  called  again  to  see  Louisa.  Her  fevei 
was  still  raging,  and  its  fires  were  fanned  by  mental  suffer- 
ing. Poor  girl !  thought  I,  as  the  first  glance  of  her  counte- 
nance showed  the  strong  lineaments  of  despair.  I  needed 
not  to  ask  how  she  felt.  Her  countenance  told  her  feelings. 
And  I  knew  that  while  her  mind  was  in  this  state,  restora- 
tion to  health  was  out  of  the  question. 

"  '  And  can  you  not,  Louisa,'  said  I,  '  trust  your  soul 
with  the  Saviour  who  died  for  you  ?     He  has  said,  "  Come 


CONSEQUENCES  OF  NEGLECTING  DUTY.         87 

unto  me,  all  ye  that  labor  and  are  heavy  laden,  and  I  will 
give  you  rest.5" 

"  '  Oh,  sir,  I  know  the  Saviour  is  merciful,  but  somehow 
or  other  I  cannot  go  to  him ;  I  do  not  know  why.  Oh,  I  am 
miserable  indeed.' 

'"Do  you  think,  Louisa,  that  you  are  penitent  for  sin  ? 
If  you  are,  you  will  be  forgiven ;  for  God  who  gave  his  Son 
to  die  for  us,  is  more  ready  to  pardon  than  we  to  ask  for- 
giveness. He  is  more  ready  to  give  good  gifts  to  the  pen- 
itent, than  any  earthly  parent  to  give  bread  to  his  hungry 
child.' 

"  I  then  opened  the  Bible  at  the  fifteenth  chapter  of  Luke, 
and  read  the  parable  of  the  prodigal  son.  I  particularly 
directed  her  attention  to  the  twentieth  verse  :  '  When  he 
was  yet  a  great  way  off,  his  father  saw  him,  and  had  compas- 
sion, and  ran,  and  fell  upon  his  neck,  and  kissed  him.' 

"  '  0,  sir,'  said  she,  '  none  of  these  promises  are  for  me. 
I  find  no  peace  to  my  troubled  spirit.  I  have  long  been  sin- 
ninsr  asrainst  God,  and  now  he  is  summoning  me  to  render 
up  my  account ;  and  0,  what  an  account  have- 1  to  render  ! 
The  doctor  gives  me  medicine,  but  I  feel  that  it  does  no  good, 
for  I  can  think  of  nothing  but  my  poor  soul.  Even  if  I  were 
perfectly  well,  I  could  hardly  endure  the  view  which  God 
has  given  me  of  my  sins.  If  they  were  forgiven,  how  happy 
should  I  be  ;  but  now,  0 !' — her  voice  was  stopped  by  a  fit 
of  shuddering,  which  agitated  those  around  her  with  the 
fear  that  she  might  be  dying.  Soon,  however,  her  nerves 
were  more  quiet,  and  I  kneeled  to  commend  her  spirit  to  the 
Lord. 

"As  I  rode  home,  her  despairing  countenance  was  unceas- 
ingly before  me.  Her  lamentations,  her  mournful  groans, 
were  continually  crying  in  my  ears.  As  I  kneeled  with  my 
family  at  evening,  I  bore  Louisa  upon  my  heart  to  the  throne 
of  grace.  All  night  I  tossed  restlessly  upon  my  pillow,  dream- 
ing of  unavailing  efforts  at  this  sick  bed. 


88  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

•  "  Another  morning  came.  As  I  knocked  at  the  door  of 
her  dwelling  I  felt  a  most  painful  solicitude  as  to  the  answer 
I  might  receive. 

"'How  is  Louisa  this  morning?'  said  I  to  the  person 
wlio  opened  the  door. 

"  '  She  is  fast  failing,  sir,  and  the  doctor  thinks  she  can 
not  recover.     We  have  just  sent  for  her  friends  to  come  and 
see  her  before  she  dies.' 

"'Is  her  mind  more  composed  than  it  has  been ?' 

"  '  0  no,  sir.  She  has  had  a  dreadful  night.  She  says 
that  she  is  lost,  and  that  there  is  no  hope  for  her.' 

"  I  went  into  her  chamber.  Despair  was  pictured  more 
deeply  than  ever  upon  her  flushed  and  fevered  countenance, 
I  was  surprised  at  the  strength  she  still  manifested  as  she 
tossed  from  side  to  side.  Death  was  evidently  drawing  near. 
She  knew  it.  She  had  lived  without  God,  and  felt  that  she 
was  unprepared  to  appear  before  him.  A  few  of  her  young 
friends  were  standing  by  her  bedside.  She  warned  them  in 
the  most  affecting  terms  to  prepare  for  death  while  in  health. 
She  told  them  of  the  mental  agony  she  was  then  enduring, 
and  of  the  heavier  woes  which  were  thickly  scattered 
through  that  endless  career  she  was  about  to  enter.  All  her 
conversation  was  interspersed  with  the  most  heart-rending 
exclamations  of  despair.  She  said  she  knew  that  God  was 
ready  to  forgive  the  sincerely  penitent,  but  that  her  sorrow 
wras  not  sorrow  for  sin,  but  dread  of  its  awful  penalty. 

"  I  had  already  said  all  that  I  could  to  lead  her  to  the 
Saviour  ;  but  no  Saviour  cast  his  love  on  this  dying  bed — no 
ray  of  peace  cheered  the  departing  soul.  Youth  and  beauty 
were  struggling  with  death  ;  and  as  that  eye  which  but  a 
few  days  before  had  sparkled  with  gaycty,  now  gazed  on  to 
eternity,  it  was  fixed  in  an  expression  of  despair. 

" '  By  many  a  dcath-bcd  I  had  been, 
And  many  a  sinner's  parting  seen, 
But  never  aught  like  this.'  " 


CONSEQUENCES  OF  NEGLECTING  DUTY.        89 

11  There  was  nothing  that  could  be  said.  The  moanings 
of  the  sufferer  mingled  with  the  prayer,  which  was  almost 
inarticulately  uttered,  from  the  emotions  which  the  scene 
inspired. 

"  Late  in  the  afternoon  I  called  again.     But  her  reason 
was  gone,  and  in  restless  agony  she  was  grappling  with 
death.     Her  friends  were  standing  around  her,  but  she  did 
not  recognize  them.     Every  eye  in  the  room  was  filled  with 
tears,  but  poor  Louisa  saw  not,  and  heeded  not  their  weep- 
ing.    It  was  a  scene  which  neither  pen  nor  pencil  can  por- 
tray.    At  the  present  moment  that  chamber  of  death  is  as 
vividly  present  to  my  mind  as  it  was  when  I  looked  upon  it 
through  irrepressible  tears.     I  can  now  see  the  disorder  of 
the  dying  bed — the  restless  form — the  swollen  veins — the 
hectic,  burning  cheek — the  eyes  rolling  wildly  around  the 
room — and  the  weeping  friends.     "Who  can  describe  such  a 
scene  ?    And  who  can  imagine  the  emotions  which  one  must 
feel  who  knew  her  history,  and  who  knew  that  this  delirium 
succeeded  temporal,  and  perhaps  preceded  eternal  despair  ? 
Louisa  could  no  longer  listen  to  my  prayers ;  she  could  no 
longer  receive  the  precious  instructions  of  God's  word.     And 
what  could  be  said  to  console  her  friends  ?     Nothing.     '  Be 
still,  and  know  that  I  am  God,'  was  all  that  could  be  said. 
I  could  only  look  and  listen  with  reverence,  inwardly  pray- 
ing that  the  sad  spectacle  might  not  be  lost  upon  any  of  us. 
For  some  time  I  lingered  around  the  solemn  scene  in  silence. 
Not  a  word  was  spoken.     All  knew  that  death  was  near. 
The  friends,  who  were  most  deeply  affected,  struggled  hard 
to  restrain  the  audible  expression  of  grief.     In  silence  I  had 
entered  the  room,  and  in  silence  and  sadness  I  went  away. 

"  Early  the  next  morning  I  called  at  the  door  to  inquire 
for  Louisa. 

"  '  She  is  dead,  sir,'  was  the  reply  to  my  question. 

'"At  what  time  did  she  die  V 

"  '  About  midnight,  sir.' 


90  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

"  '  Was  her  reason  restored  before  her  death  V 

"  *  It  appeared  partially  to  return  a  few  moments  before 

she  breathed  her  last,  but  she  was  almost  gone,  and  we 

could  hardly  understand  what  she  said.' 

"  '  Did  she  seem  any  more  peaceful  in  mind?' 

"  '  Her  friends  thought,  sir,  that  she  did  express  a  willing- 

ness  to  depart,  but  she  was  so  weak  and  so  far  gone  that 

it  was  impossible  for  her  to  express  her  mind  with  any 

clearness.' 

"  This  was  all  that  could  be  said  of  the  eternal  prospects 

of  one  who  '  wished  to  live  a  gay  and  merry  life  till  just 

before  death,  and  tlien  to  become  pious  and  die  liappy' 

Reader, 

"  'Be  wise  to-day — 'tis  madness  to  defer.' " 


ALMOST  A  CHRISTIAN  91 


CHAPTER   V. 

ALMOST  A  CHRISTIAN. 
"  Ye  will  not  come  unto  me/' 

The  melancholy  story  related  in  the  last  chapter  is  not 
an  uncommon  one.  It  is  the  story  of  thousands.  All  that 
is  necessary,  reader,  to  make  the  case  your  own,  is,  that  you 
should  feel  such  a  degree  of  interest  in  religious  duties  as  to 
open  your  eyes  clearly  to  their  demands,  but  yet  not  enough 
to  induce  you  cordially  to  comply  with  them — and  then, 
that  death  should  approach  you  while  you  are  thus  unpre- 
pared. The  gloomy  forebodings  and  the  dreadful  remorse 
which  darkened  Louisa's  last  hours,  must  in  such  a  case  be 
yours. 

It  was  not  my  intention,  when  forming  the  plan  of  this 
work,  to  have  it  present  religious  truth  and  duty  hi  gloomy  or 
melancholy  aspects'.  Religion  is  a  most  cheerful  and  happy 
thing  to  practice,  but  a  most  sad  and  melancholy  thing  to 
neglect ;  and  as  undoubtedly  some  who  read  this  book  will 
read  it  only  to  understand  their  duty,  without  at  all  setting 
then  hearts  upon  the  performance  of  it,  I  ought  to  devote 
one  or  two  chapters  particularly  to  them.  The  case  of 
Louisa,  though  it  was  a  melancholy  one,  was  real.  And 
what  has  once  occurred,  may  occur  agam.  You  will  observe, 
too,  that  all  the  suffering  winch  she  manifested  in  her  dying 
hour  was  the  work  of  conscience.  The  minister  did  all  he 
could  to  soothe  and  calm  her.  Examine  all  the  conversa- 
tion he  had  with  her  at  her  bedside,  and  you  will  find  that 
it  was  the  language  of  kind  invitation. 

Sometimes  such  a  dying  scene  as  this  is  the  portion  of  an 
individual  who  has  lived  a  life  of  open  and  unbridled  wick- 
edness.    But,  generally,  continued  impiety  and  vice  lull  the 


92  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

conscience  into  a  slumber  which  it  requires  a  stronger  power 
than  that  of  sickness  or  approaching  death  to  break.  Louisa 
was  almost  a  Christian.  She  was  nearly  persuaded  to 
begin  a  life  of  piety.  In  just  such  a  state  of  mind,  my  read- 
er, it  is  very  probable  you  may  be.  Perhaps,  since  you  have 
been  reading  this  book,  }tou  have  been  thinking  more  and 
more  seriously  of  your  Christian  duty,  and  felt  a  stronger 
and  stronger  intention  of  doing  it,  at  least  at  some  future 
time.  You  ought,  after  having  read  the  first  chapter,  to 
have  gone  at  once  and  fully  confessed  all  your  sins  to  God. 
When  you  read  the  second,  you  should  have  cordially  wel- 
comed the  Saviour  as  your  friend,  and  chosen  him  as  your 
Redeemer  and  portion.  You  ought  to  have  been  induced  by 
the  third  to  begin  immediately  a  life  of  prayer,  and  to  have 
been  constant  and  ardent  at  the  throne  of  grace  since  you 
read  it.  But  perhaps  you  neglected  all  this.  You  under- 
stand very  clearly  what  Christian  duty  is.  It  is  plain  to  you 
that  there  is  a  Being  above,  with  whom  you  ought  to  live  in 
constant  communion.  You  understand  clearly  how  you  are 
to  begin  your  duty,  if  you  have  neglected  it  heretofore,  by 
coming  and  confessing  all  your  sins,  and  seeking  forgiveness 
through  Jesus  Christ,  who  has  died  for  you.  Thus  you  well 
know  what  duty  is.  The  solitary  difficulty  is,  that  you  will 
not  do  it 

But  why  ?  What  can  be  the  cause  of  that  apparent 
infatuation  which  consists  in  continually  neglecting  a  duty 
which  you  acknowledge  to  be  a  duty,  and  which  you  know 
it  would  increase  your  happiness  to  perform  ?  "Were  I  to 
ask  you,  it  is  very  probable  you  would  say  what  I  have 
known  a  -great  many  others  to  say  in  your  situation — it 
would  be  this  : 

"  I  know  I  am  a  sinner  against  God,  and  I  wish  to 
repent  and  be  forgiven,  and  to  love  and  serve  my  Maker, 
but  I  do  not  see  how  I  can." 

My  reader,  is  this  your  state  of  mind  ?     Many  persona 


ALMOST  A  CHRISTIAN.  93 

do  use  this  language,  and  use  it  honestly.  That  is,  they  use 
it  honestly,  if  they  mean  by  it  what  the  language  properly 
does  mean,  that  they  see  the  propriety  and  duty  and  hap- 
piness of  a  new  life,  so  that  in  some  sense  they  desire  it,  but 
that  some  secret  cause  which  they  have  not  yet  discovered 
prevents  their  obedience.  I  design  in  this  chapter  to  he]p 
you  to  discover  what  that  cause  is.  If  you  really  wish  to 
discover  and  to  remove  it,  you  will  read  the  chapter  carefully, 
with  a  willingness  to  be  convinced,  and  you  will  often  pause 
to  apply  what  is  said  to  you*  own  case. 

There  are  three  very  common  causes  which  operate  to  * 
prevent  persons  who  are  almost  Christians,  from  becoming 
so  altogether. 

I.  A  spirit  of  ^procrastination.  Waiting  for  a  more 
convenient  season.  The  following  case  illustrates  this  part 
of  our  subject. 

A  boy  of  about  twelve  or  fourteen  years  of  age,  a  member 
of  an  academy,  in  which  he  is  pursuing  his  studies  prepara- 
tory to  his  admission  to  college,  sees  the  duty  of  commencing 
a  Christian  life.  He  walks  some  evening  at  sunset  alone 
over  the  green  fields  which  surround  the  village  in  which 
he  resides,  and  the  stillness  and  beauty  of  the  scene  around 
him  bring  him  to  a  serious  and  thoughtful  frame  of  mind. 
God  is  speaking  to  him  in  the  features  of  beauty  and  splen- 
dor in  which  the  face  of  nature  is  decked.  The  glorious 
western  sky  reminds  him  of  the  hand  which  spread  its  glow- 
ing colors.  He  looks  into  the  dark  grove  in  the  edge  of 
which  he  is  walking,  and  its  expression  of  deep,  unbroken 
solitude  brings  a  feeling  of  calm  solemnity  over  his  soul. 
The  declining  sun — the  last  faint  whispers  of  the  dying  even- 
ing breeze — the  solitary  and  mournful  note  which  comes  to 
him  from  a  lofty  branch  of  some  tall  tree  in  the  depth  of  the 
forest — these,  and  the  thousand  other  circumstances  of  such 
a  scene,  speak  to  him  most  distinctly  of  the  flight  of  time, 
and  of  the  approach  of  that  evening  when  the  sun  of  his  * 


94  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

life  is  to  decline,  and  this  world  cease  for  ever  to  be  his 
home. 

As  he  muses  on  this  scene,  he  feels  the  necessity  of  a 
preparation  for  death,  and  as  he  walks  slowly  homeward,  he 
is  almost  determined  to  come  at  once  to  the  conclusion  to 
commence  immediately  a  life  of  piety.  He  reflects  however 
upon  the  unpleasant  publicity  of  such  a  change.  He  has 
many  irreligious  friends  whom  it  is  hard  to  relinquish,  and 
he  shrinks  from  forming  new  acquaintances  in  a  place  he  is 
so  soon  to  leave.  He  reflects  that  he  is  soon  to  be  trans- 
ferred to  college,  and  that  there  he  can  begin  anew.  He 
resolves,  that  when  he  enteis  coilege  walls,  he  will  enter  a 
Christian  ;  that  he  will  from  the  first  be  known  as  one  deter- 
mined to  do  his  duty  towards  God.  He  will  form  no  irre- 
ligious friendships,  and  then  he  will  have  none  to  sunder. 
He  will  fall  into  no  irreligious  practices,  and  then  he  will 
have  none  to  abandon.  He  thinks  he  can  thus  avoid  the 
awkwardness  of  a  public  change.  He  is  ungenerous  enough 
to  wish  to  steal  thus  secretly  into  the  kingdom  of  heaven, 
without  humbling  any  of  his  pride  by  an  open  admission 
that  he  has  been  wrong.  He  waits  for  "  a  convenient  sea- 
son." 

When  he  finds  himself  on  college  ground,  however,  his 
heart  does  not  turn  any  more  easily  to  his  duties  towards 
God.  First,  there  is  the  feverish  interest  of  the  examina- 
tion ;  then,  the  novelty  of  the  public  recitation-room  ;  the 
untried,  unknown  instructor;  the  new  room-mate;  and  all 
the  multiplied  and  varied  excitements  which  are  always  to 
be  found  in  college  walls.  There  are  new  acquaintances  to 
form,  new  countenances  to  speculate  upon,  and  new  charac 
ters  to  study  ;  and  in  these  and  similar  objects  of  occupation 
and  interest,  week  after  week  glides  rapidly  away.  At  last 
on  Saturday  evening,  the  last  of  the  term,  he  is  walking 
over  the  college  grounds,  and  among  the  other  serious  reflec- 
tions that  come  upon  his  mind,  there  are  the  following  : 


'  n  y 
hi 

"  One  whole  term  has  now  passed,  and  what  have  be- 
come of  all  my  resolutions  to  return  to  God  ?  How  swiftly 
the  weeks  have  glided  away,  and  I  have  been  going  farther 
and  farther  away  from  God  and  from  duty.  I  find  that  I 
camiot  in  college,  any  more  than  in  any  other  place,  become 
a  Christian  without  effort  and  self-denial.  I  must  come 
boldly  to  the  duty  of  giving  up  my  heart  to  God  and  com- 
mencing publicly  a  Christian  life  ;  and  whenever  I  do  this,  it 
must  be  hard  at  first.  I  will  attend  to  the  subject  this  vaca- 
tion. I  shall  be  quiet  and  retired  at  home,  and  shall  have 
a  favorable  opportunity  there  to  attend  to  my  duty  and  turn 
to  God.    I  will  come  back  to  college  next  term  a  new  man." 

Such  are  his  reflections.  Instead  of  resolving  to  do  his 
duty  now,  he  looks  forward  again,  notwithstanding  his  former 
disappointment,  to  another  more  convenient  season.  The 
bustle  of  the  closing  term,  and  the  plans  and  preparations  for 
the  approaching  vacation,  soon  engross  his  mind,  and  instead 
of  coming  to  his  Maker  at  once  and  going  home  a  Christian, 
he  puts  it  off  in  hopes  to  return  one.  Vain  hope.  He  wiD 
undoubtedly  come  back  as  he  goes,  procrastinating  duty. 

Term  after  term  and  vacation  after  vacation  pass  away, 
and  the  work  of  preparation  for  another  world  is  still  post- 
poned and  neglected.  The  longer  it  is  postponed  the  worse 
it  is,  for  he  is  becoming  more  and  more  known  as  an  irre- 
ligious young  man,  and  more  and  more  ultimately  connected 
with  those  whose  influence  is  all  against  religion.  He  soon 
quiets  conscience  with  the  reflection,  that  while  he  is  in  the 
lower  classes,  he  is  much  more  under  the  control  of  public 
opinion ;  others,  older  and  more  advanced  than  he,  take  the 
lead  in  forming  the  sentiments  of  the  community,  and  it  is 
harder  for  him  to  act  independently  now,  on  a  subject  which 
affects  his  standing  in  the  estimation  of  his  companions, 
than  it  will  be  when  he  shall  have  passed  on  to  a  higher 
class,  and  shall  have  influence  in  forming  a  public  sentiment 
to  act  upon  others,  instead  of  having  others  form  it  for  him. 


9o  THE   YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

The  closing  months  of  college  life  at  last  come  on,  bring 
ing  with  them  less  and  less  disposition  to  do  his  duty.  He 
has  become  familiarized  to  the  idea  of  living  without  God 
His  long  and  intimate  acquaintance  with  irreligious  com- 
panions has  bound  him  to  them  by  ties  which  he  is  not 
■willing:  to  sunder.  Not  ties  of  affection  ;  for  there  is  seldom 
much  confidence  or  love  in  such  a  case.  They  are  ties  of 
mere  acquaintance — mere  community  of  sentiment  and 
action.  Yet  he  dreads  to  break  away  from  what  gives  him 
little  pleasure,  and  is  thus  bound  by  a  mysterious  and  un- 
reasonable, but  almost  hopeless  slavery.  He  leaves  college 
either  utterly  confirmed  in  insensibility  to  religious  truth,  or 
else,  when  he  occasionally  thinks  of  the  subject,  faintly  hop- 
ing that  in  the  bustle  of  future  life  some  more  convenient 
season  may  occur,  which  he  may  seize  as  a  time  for  making 
his  peace  with  God. 

This  is  the  history  of  many  a  college  student,  and  by  a 
slight  change  of  the  circumstances  of  the  description,  it 
might  be  made  the  history  of  thousands  of  others  in  every 
walk  of  life.  The  secret  of  this  procrastination  is  this  : 
The  subject  of  it  is  deluded  by  the  chimerical  hope  of  finding 
some  opportunity  of  coming  to  God  without  real  submission ; 
some  way  of  changing  sides  on  a  most  momentous  subject, 
without  the  mortification  of  changing — of  getting  right  with- 
out the  humiliating  acknowledgment  of  having  been  wrong. 
Now  these  difficulties,  which  constitute  the  straitness  of  the 
gate  through  which  we  must  enter,  cannot  be  avoided.  T\  e 
cannot  go  round  them — we  cannot  climb  up  some  other  way, 
and  it  is  useless  to  wait  for  some  other  way  to  offer.  The 
work  of  coming  directly  and  decidedly  to  our  Maker,  to  con- 
fess sin  and  to  ask  his  forgiveness,  must  be  done.  The  pub- 
lic acknowledgment  that  we  have  been  wrong,  which  a 
public  change  of  conduct  implies,  must  be  made,  and  it  will 
be  painful.  Irreligious  friends  must,  as  intimates  and  asso- 
ciates, be  abandoned ;  and  whenever  that  is  done  it  will 


ALMOST  A  CHRISTIAN.  97 

require  an  effort.  These  steps  must  be  taken,  and  the  diffi- 
culty of  taking  them  is  increased ',  not  diminished,  by  the 
lapse  of  time. 

My  reader,  is  not  the  reason  why  you  cannot  repent  of 
sin  and  love  God  this — that  you  can  never  say,  "  I  am  will- 
ing to  do  it  noiv  ?"  Are  you  willing  to  be,  from  this  time, 
the  servant  and  follower  of  Jehovah ;  or  are  you  trying  the 
mad  experiment  of  postponement  and  delay  ? 

II.  Love  of  the  world.  This  is  the  second  of  the  three 
secret  obstacles  to  piety  which  I  was  to  mention  ;  I  mean, 
secret  obstacles  in  the  way  of  those  who  think  that  they 
wish  to  be  penitent,  but  that  they  cannot.  I  am  not  now 
considering  the  causes  which  are  opera.ting  so  extensively  in 
chaining  the  great  mass  of  mankind  down  in  their  bondage 
to  sin;  I  speak  only  of  those  who  feel  some  interest  in  this 
subject,  who  think  they  desire  salvation,  and  are  willing  to 
do  what  God  requires,  but  cannot.  Under  this  second  head 
I  am  to  endeavor  to  show,  that  many  of  my  readers  who  are 
in  tins  state  of  mind  are  prevented  from  doing  their  duty  by 
a  secret  love  of  the  world.  I  shall  not  however  succeed  in 
showing  this,  unless  you  cooperate  with  me.  If,  while  you 
read  it,  you  put  yourself  hi  an  attitude  of  defence,  you  can 
easily  set  aside  what  I  have  to  say.  I  shall  suppose,  how- 
ever, that  you  really  wish  to  know,  and  that  you  will  apply 
what  I  present,  with  impartiality  and  candor  to  yourselves. 

In  one  sense,  it  is  right  to  love  the  world.  God  has 
made  it  for  our  enjoyment,  and  filled  it  with  sources  of  hap- 
piness for  the  very  purpose  of  having  us  enjoy  them.  We 
are  to  look  upon  it,  therefore,  as  a  scene  in  which  the  Creator 
intended  that  we  should  be  happy,  and  we  are  to  derive 
from  it  all  the  happiness  that  we  reasonably  can. 

There  are,  however,  temptations  in  this  world,  as  all  will 
adoit ;  that  is,  pleasures  which  beckon  us  away  from  duty. 
When  a  young  person  begins  to  think  of  religious  duty,  these 
pleasures,  which  have  perhaps  long  been  enjoyed,  come  up 

Y.  Christian.  5 


98  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

to  view — not  very  distinctly,  but  still  with  so  much  effect 
as  to  blind  the  mind  and  harden  the  heart.     Perhaps,  my 
reader,  you  can  think  of  some  irreligious  companion  whom 
you  know  you  must  give  up  if  you  become  an  open  and 
decided  Christian.     Even  if  you  do  not  give  up  him,  you 
expect  that  he  will  give  up  you,  if  such  a  change  should 
take  place  in  your  character.     Now,  although  you  do  not 
distinctly  make  a  comparison  between  the  pleasures  of  his 
society  on  the  one  side,  and  the  peace  and  happiness  of  relig- 
ion on  the  other,  and  after  balancing  their  claims  decide 
against  God  and  duty  ;  although  you  make  no  formal  decis- 
ion like  this,  yet  the  image  of  that  friend,  and  the  recollec- 
tion of  the  past  pleasures  of  his  society,  and  the  prospect  of 
future  enjoyment,  come  into  your  mind  and  secretly  hold 
you  a  prisoner.     The  chain  is  wound  around  your  heart,  and 
its  pressure  is  so  gentle  that  you  scarcely  perceive  it.     Still, 
it  holds  you  firmly,  and  until  you  loosen  the  link,  it  will  hold 
you.     You  do  right,  while  you  are  in  this  state  of  mind,  to 
say  that  you  cannot  love  God.     Our  Saviour  says  the  same. 
"  If  any  man  come  to  me,  and  hate  not,"  that  is,  is  not  cor- 
dially willing  to  give  up,  if  necessary,  "  his  father  and  mother, 
and  wife  and  sisters,  yea,  and  his  own  life  also,  he  cannot 
be  my  disciple."     You  cannot  be  the  disciple  of  Christ  till 
you  are  willing  to  give  up  the  world  in  all  its  forms. 

Perhaps  it  is  not  &  friend  that  keeps  you  from  the  Sav- 
iour, but  some  other  object.  You  may  indulge  yourself  in 
some  practice  which  conscience  secretly  condemns.  Perhaps 
there  is  a  favorite  amusement  which  you  must  give  up  if  you 
should  become  a  consistent  Christian.  You  do  not  distinctly 
bring  this  up  before  your  mind,  into  formal  comparison  with 
the  hope  of  a  happy  immortality,  and  decide  that  it  is  supe- 
rior. It  insinuates  itself  into  your  mind,  and  shuts  its  ave- 
nues against  the  light.  You  wonder  that  you  do  not  see  and 
feel,  and  cannot  discover  the  cause. 

III.   Fear  of  the  world.     Where  love  of  tbo  world  binds 


ALMOST  A  CHRISTIAN  99 

one  soul  in  sin,  the  fear  of  it,  in  some  form  or  othc*,  binds 
ten.  Every  one  is  surrounded  by  a  circle  of  influence,  it 
may  be  small  or  great,  which  is  hostile  to  piety.  To  take 
the  attitude  of  a  humble  Christian  in  the  presence  of  this 
circle  of  acquaintances  and  friends,  to  abandon  your  past 
course  of  conduct  with  the  acknowledgment  that  it  has  been 
entirely  wrong,  and  to  encounter  the  cold  and  forbidding,  or 
perhaps  scornful  looks  of  those  whom  you  have  been  accus- 
tomed to  call  your  friends — all  this  is  trying.  You  shrink 
from  it.  You  do  not  very  distinctly  take  it  into  considera- 
tion, but  it  operates  with  an  influence  the  more  unmanage- 
able, because  it  is  unseen.  My  object  in  alluding  to  it  here, 
therefore,  is  to  bring  it  out  to  view,  that  you  may  distinctly 
see  it,  and  bring  fairly  up  the  question  whether  you  will  be 
deterred  by  such  a  consideration  from  doing  your  duty 
towards  your  Maker. 

These  three  reasons  are  ordinarily  the  chief  apparent 
causes  why  those  who  are  almost  Christians  do  not  become 
so  altogether.  They  are  strong  reasons.  They  hold  a  great 
many  individuals  in  lasting  bondage,  and  they  will  probably 
continue  to  hold  many  of  my  readers  in  their  chains.  It  is 
no  small  thing,  and  with  hearts  and  habits  like  ours  it  is 
no  easy  thing,  to  become  a  Christian. 

Jesus  Christ  foretold  all  these  obstacles.  He  was  very 
frank  and  open  in  all  his  statements.  He  never  intended  to 
bring  any  one  into  unforeseen  difficulties.  He  stated  very 
plainly  what  he  expected  of  his  followers ;  he  described  the 
sacrifices  they  must  make  to  please  him,  and  the  troubles 
they  must  endure  ;  and  when  he  left  them  at  last,  he  told 
them  plainly  that  should  they  persevere  in  his  service  after 
he  was  gone,  they  must  go  on  expecting  to  suffer,  to  bleed, 
and  to  die  in  this  cause. 

"  Whosoever  he  be  of  you  that  forsaketh  not  all  that  he 
hath,  he  cannot  be  my  disciple."  How  strong  an  expression  ! 
What  an  entire  surrender  of  the  individuals  addressed  does 


100  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

it  require  !  And  yet  he  says,  "  My  yoke  is  easy,  and  my 
burden  is  light."  How  is  this?  Does  not  the  first  declara- 
tion imply  that  the  service  of  Christ  is  a  hard  service  ?  And 
does  not  the  latter  imply  that  it  is  easy  ?  There  are  two 
classes  of  passages  in  the  Scriptures  which  seem,  on  this 
point,  to  speak  a  different  language.  But  the  explanation 
is  this  :  It  is  hard  for  you  to  come  to  Jesus  Christ.  Worldly 
pleasures  beckon  you  away.  Dangers  and  difficulties  frown 
upon  you,  and  above  all  the  rest,  pride — pride,  that  most 
unconquerable  of  enemies,  stands  erect  and  says  you  must 
not  take  the  attitude  of  a  humble  Christian.  Now  all  these 
obstacles  you  must  overcome.  The  world  must  be  relin- 
quished ;  the  claims  of  even  father  and  mother,  if  they  inter- 
fere with  duty  to  God,  must  give  way  ;  the  trials  which  in 
a  life  of  piety  will  await  you,  must  be  boldly  encountered, 
and  pride  must  yield.  But  when  this  is  done,  the  surrender 
once  made,  all  is  happy — the  yoke  is  easy,  and  the  burden  is 
light.  If  the  heart  is  really  submissive  to  God,  if  its  own 
affections  have  indeed  been  crucified,  and  if  God  really  reigns 
there,  peace  comes  ;  and  peace  and  happiness  will  really 
reign,  unless  returning  pride  and  worldliness  renew  the  strug- 
gle. The  government  of  God  in  the  soul,  is  a  government 
which  regulates,  but  does  not  enslave ;  it  diffuses  over  the 
heart  unmingled  peace  and  happiness. 

Let  all  then  distinctly  understand,  that  there  is  no  be- 
coming a  disciple  of  Jesus  Christ  without  real  submission, 
and  submission  is  no  pleasant  work  for  human  nature  to 
perform.  It  is  hard  for  us  to  acknowledge  that  we  have 
been  wrong — to  bow  to  a  power  which  we  have  long  op- 
posed, and  thus  publicly  and  openly  to  change  sides  on  a 
subject  which  divides  the  world.  But  it  must  be  done 
Enmity  to  God,  or  uncompromising  submission  to  his  will, 
is  the  only  alternative. 

It  is  right  that  this  should  be  the  only  alternative.      Just 
look  at  the  facts.     The  Creator  of  all  has  proclaimed  as  the 


ALMOST  A  CHRISTIAN.  101 

law  of  his  empire,  that  all  beings  should  love  him  supremely, 
and  their  fellows  as  themselves.  We  have  always  known 
that  this  was  his  law ;  we  know  too  that  it  is  reasonable  in 
its  nature,  and  most  excellent  in  its  tendency.  No  man  can 
say  that  it  is  not  exactly  calculated  to  diffuse  universal  hap- 
piness ;  nor  can  any  man  deny  that  its  almost  unceasing 
violation  here  has  filled  the  world  with  misery  and  crime. 
Now,  excellent  and  reasonable  as  this  law  is,  there  are  mill- 
ions in  the  human  family  who  have  spent  all  their  lives  in 
the  constant  violation  of  it.  They  know  that  they  never 
have,  for  a  single  moment,  loved  God  supremely,  or  loved 
their  neighbor  as  themselves.  Now  all  of  us  who  are,  or 
who  have  been  in  this  state,  have  been  plainly  living  in 
opposition  to  God  and  to  the  general  happi?iess.  We  have 
been  violating  known  duty,  continuing  in  acknowledged  sin ; 
and  the  effect  has  not  been  confined  to  ourselves,  the  influ- 
ence has  extended.  Our  example  has  been  in  favor  of  irre 
lio-ion  :  and  as  our  sua  has  thus  been  public,  can  we  complain 
that  God  should  require  our  acknowledgment  to  be  public 
too  ?  No  ;  submission  to  God  must  be  entire,  unqualified, 
unreserved,  or  we  cannot  expect  God  to  receive  it. 

But  let  me  be  more  particular.  Perhaps  some  young 
mem  who  reads  this  is  almost  persuaded  to  be  a  Christian. 
He  is  still  an  irreligious  man.  I  do  not  mean  that  he  openly 
opposes  religion,  but  that  he  is  without  piety.  Were  I  to 
address  such  an  one  individually,  I  would  say  to  him,  "  You, 
sir,  are  probably  to  remain  twenty  or  thirty  years  in  the 
community  of  which  you  now  form  a  part.  These  years 
will  be  in  the  very  prime  of  your  life.  Your  influence  is 
now  great ;  it  is  increasing,  and  it  must  increase.  God  has 
brought  you  into  this  scene.  Your  original  powers  and  your 
education  you  owe  to  him.  The  habits  of  industry  and  of 
integrity  which  you  have  acquired,  would  not  have  been 
yours  without  his  aid.  He  has  held  you  up  and  brought 
you  forward ;  and  now,  as  the  opening  prospects  of  useful- 


102  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

ness  and  happiness  lie  before  you,  he  calls  upon  you  to  come 
to  him,  and  to  assist  in  the  execution  of  his  plans  for  the 
promotion  of  human  happiness.  "Will  you  come  ?  There 
will  be  a  great  deal  of  suffering  which  you  can  alleviate 
during  the  twenty  years  that  are  before  you,  if  you  will  set 
your  heart  upon  alleviating  suffering.  There  will  be  much 
vice  which  your  influence  may  prevent,  if  you  will  exert  it 
aright.  You  may  be  the  means  too  of  bringing  many  an 
unhappy  sinner  to  the  Saviour  who  died  for  him,  if  you  will 
seek  and  love  that  Saviour  yourself,  and  aim  to  promote  his 
cause."  "  But  no,"  do  you  say  ?  "I  have  been,  I  acknow- 
ledge, in  the  wrong,  but  I  cannot  bow  to  truth  and  duty, 
and  humble  pride —abandon  my  ground,  and  stand  before 
the  world  the  acknowledged  victim  of  folly  and  sin."  Then 
you  cannot  serve  God.  Unless  you  will  do  this,  you  cannot 
be  Christ's  disciple. 

Is  there  an  unchristian  'parent  who  reads  these  pages  ? 
God  has  especial  claims  upon  you  in  your  family  circle. 
You  are  moulding  the  hearts  of  these  children  by  your  influ- 
ence, and  the  lineaments  which  your  daily  example  is  calling 
forth  here  are  probably  to  last.  You  are  doing  work  for  a 
very  long  futurity.  You  endeavor  to  promote  the  happiness 
of  your  children  for  this  life,  but  God  shows  the  way  to  make 
them  happy  for  ever,  and  he  invites  you  to  come  and  coop- 
erate with  him  in  training  them  for  the  skies.  But  you 
cannot  do  this  with  the  hope  of  acceptance  unless  your  own 
heart  is  right  with  him.  If  you  have  been  against  him  thus 
far,  you  cannot  cooperate  with  him  till  you  cease  your  oppo- 
sition, humble  yourselves  before  him,  accept  of  mercy  by 
trusting  alone  in  Christ  for  salvation,  and  resolve  to  enter 
upon  the  performance  of  all  known  duty. 

For  example,  you  have  perhaps  hitherto  neglected  family 
prayer ;  and  you  know  you  cannot  do  your  whole  duty  till 
you  bow  before  Him  at  the  fireside  altar  for  the  first  time. 
Do  you  say  this  is  a  hard  duty,  and  you  cannot  perform  it  ? 


ALMOST   A  CHRISTIAN.  103 

Look  well  to  the  state  of  your  own  heart.  You  must  hum- 
ble yourself  before  God,  and  when  you  do  so  as  you  ought, 
there  will  be  no  very  great  self-denial  in  taking  the  attitude 
before  your  family  of  a  pardoned  sinner,  seeking  mercy  for 
yourself  and  them  at  the  cross  of  Him  who  gave  himself  to 
die  for  man. 

Look  at  that  youth,  the  favored  object  in  the  circle  of 
friends  and  companions  in  which  he  moves.  His  upright 
character  has  commanded  respect,  and  Iris  amiable  disposi- 
tion has  secured  affection.  His  companions  seek  his  society ; 
they  observe  and  imitate  his  example  ;  they  catch  and  adopt 
his  opinions.  He  has  never,  now,  said  a  word  against  relig- 
ion. He  complies  respectfully  with  all  its  external  observ- 
ances, and  in  fine  does  all  which  he  can  do  without  being 
personally  humbled.  But  how  would  he  shrink  from  having 
it  whispered  about  in  the  circle  in  which  he  moves,  that  he 
is  anxious  for  the  salvation  of  his  soul.  How  unwilling  would 
he  be  that  it  should  be  known  that  he  went  to  his  pastor  for 
personal  religious  instruction,  or  that  he  had  taken  any  step 
which  should  admit  before  all  that  he  had  been  himself,  per- 
sonally, a  guilty  rebel  against  God,  and  that  he  wished  to 
change  sides  now,  and  do  good  as  openly  and  as  publicly  as 
he  had  before  done  injury.  But  0,  reflect ;  you  have  taken 
an  open  stand  against  God,  and  are  you  not  willing  to  take 
an  open  stand  in  his  favor  ?  I  know  it  is  painful — it  is  the 
very  crucifixion  of  the  flesh ;  but  God  cannot  propose  any 
other  terms  than  that  those  who  have  been  open  enemies 
should  become  open  friends,  and  no  generous  mind  can  ask 
any  easier  conditions. 

Indeed,  if  another  mode  of  entering  the  kingdom  of  heav- 
en had  been  proposed,  we  should  ourselves  see  its  impropri- 
ety. Suppose  the  Saviour  were  to  say  to  a  sinner  thus  : 
"You  have  been  my  enemy,  I  know.  In  the  controversy 
which  has  existed  between  God  and  his  revolted  subjects, 
you  have  taken  the  wrong  side.     You  have  been  known  to 


104  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

be  without  piety,  and  for  many  long  years  you  have  been 
exerting  an  influence  against  God,  and  against  the  happiness 
of  the  creation.  But  I  am  ready  to  forgive  you,  if  you  will 
return  to  me  now.  And  as  publicly  giving  up  in  such  a  con- 
troversy is  always  painful  to  the  pride  of  the  human  heart, 
I  will  excuse  you  from  this.  You  may  come  secretly  and  be 
my  friend,  to  save  you  the  mortification  of  publicly  changing 
sides  in  a  question  on  which  your  opinions  and  your  conduct 
have  long  been  known." 

To  this,  a  spirit  of  any  nobleness  or  generosity  would 
reply,  ';  If  I  have  been  in  the  wrong,  and  I  freely  acknow- 
ledge that  I  have,  I  choose  openly  to  avow  it.  My  repent- 
ance shall  be  known  as  extensively  as  my  sin.  I  will  not 
come  and  make  my  peace  secretly  with  God,  and  leave  my 
example  to  go  on  alluring,  as  it  has  done,  others  to  live  in 
sin.  If  pride  remonstrates,  I  will  cut  it  down  ;  and  if  my 
comrades  deride  my  change,  I  will  bear  their  reproaches. 
They  cannot  injure  me  as  much  as  my  ungodly  example  and 
influence  has  injured  them." 

"Whether,  however,  the  sinner  sees  the  necessity  of  his 
being  really  humbled  before  he  is  forgiven,  or  not,  God  sees 
it — every  holy  being  sees  it ;  and  Jehovah's  determination 
is  fixed.  We  must  submit,  or  we  cannot  enter  his  blessed 
kingdom. 

Do  you  not  now,  my  reader,  see  what  is  the  reason  why 
you  cannot  be  a  Christian  ?  You  say  you  wish  to  be,  but 
cannot ;  and  in  nine  out  of  ten  of  such  cases  the  difficulty  is, 
you  are  not  cordially  willing  to  give  up  all  to  God.  Pride 
is  not  yet  humbled,  or  the  world  is  not  yet  surrendered  ;  and 
until  it  is,  you  cannot  expect  peace.  You  know  you  have 
been  wrong,  and  you  wish  now  to  be  right ;  but  this  cannot 
be  without  an  open  change,  and  this  you  shrink  from.  The 
jailer  who  came  trembling  to  know  what  he  must  do  to  be 
.^;ivcd,  was  told  to  believe  in  the  Lord  Jesus  Christ.  How 
humiliating  !  to  appear  the  next  morning  a  spectacle  to  the 


ALMOST  A  CHRISTIAN.  105 

whole  community — a  stern  public  officer  bowed  down  tc 
submission  through  the  influence  of  the  very  prisoners  com- 
mitted to  his  charge.  Yet  he  was  willing  to  encounter  it. 
And  you,  if  you  can  consent  to  yield — to  yield  every  thing — 
to  throw  down  every  weapon,  and  give  up  every  refuge,  and 
come  now  to  the  Saviour,  bearing  your  cross — that  is,  bring- 
ing life  and  reputation  and  all  you  hold  dear,  and  placing  it 
at  his  supreme  disposal,  you  may  depend  upon  forgiveness 
and  peace.  But  while  your  heart  is  full  of  reservations, 
while  the  world  retains  its  hold  and  pride  is  unsubdued,  and 
you  are  thus  unwilling  openly  and  decidedly  to  take  the 
right  side,  is  it  unjust  or  unkind  in  God  to  consider  you  as 
upon  the  wrong  one  ?  Far  be  it  from  me  to  advocate  osten- 
tation  in  piety.  The  humble,  retiring  Christian,  who  com- 
munes with  his  own  heart  and  with  God,  is  in  the  right 
road  to  growth  in  grace  and  to  usefulness  ;  but  every  one 
ought  to  be  willing,  and,  if  he  is  really  penitent,  will  be 
willing,  that  the  part  he  takes  in  this  great  question  should 
be  known. 

I  now  dismiss  this  subject,  not  to  resume  it  again  in  this 
volume.  Knowing,  as  I  did,  that  there  would  undoubtedly 
be  many  among  the  readers  of  this  book  who  can  only  be 
called  almost  Christians,  I  could  not  avoid  devoting  a  chap- 
ter or  two  to  them.  I  have  now  explained  as  distinctly  as 
I  have  been  able  to  do  it,  the  submission  of  the  heart  which 
is  necessary  to  becoming  a  Christian,  and  what  are  the  diffi- 
culties in  the  way.  I  should  evince  but  a  slight  knowledge 
of  the  human  heart  if  I  were  not  to  expect  that  many  who 
read  this  will  still  remain  only  almost  Christians.  I  must 
here,  however,  take  my  final  leave  of  them,  and  invite  the 
others,  those  who  cordially  take  the  Saviour  as  their  por- 
tion, to  go  on  with  me  through  the  remaining  chapters  of  the 
book,  which  I  shall  devote  entirely  to  those  who  are  alto* 
gether  Christians. 

5*  . 


x06  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 


CHAPTER    VI. 

DIFFICULTIES  IN  RELIGION. 

"  The  secret  things  belong  unto  the  Lord  our  God." 

The  young  Christian,  conscientiously  desiring  to  know 
and  to  do  his  duty,  is,  at  the  outset  of  his  course,  perplexed 
by  a  multitude  of  difficulties  which  are  more  or  less  remotely 
connected  with  the  subject  of  religion,  and  which  tvill  arise 
to  his  view.  These  difficulties  in  many  cases  cannot  be 
removed  ;  the  embarrassing  perplexity,  however,  which 
arises  from  them,  always  can,  and  it  is  to  this  subject  that  I 
wish  to  devote  the  present  chapter.  My  plan  will  be,  in  the 
first  place,  to  endeavor  thoroughly  to  convince  all  who  read 
it,  that  difficulties  must  be  expected — difficulties  too  which 
they  cannot  entirely  surmount ;  and  in  the  second  place,  to 
explain  and  illustrate  the  spirit  with  which  they  must  be 
met. 

It  is  characteristic  of  the  human  mind,  not  to  be  willing 
to  wait  long  in  suspense  on  any  question  presented  to  it  for 
decision.  When  any  new  question  or  new  subject  comes  be- 
fore us,  we  grasp  hastily  at  the  little  information  in  regard  to 
it  within  our  immediate  reach,  and  then  hurry  to  a  decision. 
We  are  not  often  willing  to  wait  to  consider  whether  the 
subject  is  fairly  within  the  grasp  of  our  powers,  and  whether 
all  the  facts  which  are  important  to  a  proper  consideration 
of  it  are  before  us.  We  decide  at  once.  It  is  not  pleasant 
to  be  in  suspense.  Suspense  implies  ignorance,  and  to  admit 
ignorance  is  humiliating. 

Hence,  most  persons  have  a  settled  belief  upon  almost 
every  question  which  has  been  brought  before  them.  In 
expressing  their  opinions,  they  mention  things  which  they 
Relieve,  and  things  which  they  do  not  believe  ;  but  very  few 


DIFFICULTIES  IN  RELiOION.  107 

people  have  a  third  class  of  questions  which  they  acknow- 
ledge to  be  beyond  their  grasp,  so  that  in  regard  to  them 
they  can  neither  believe  nor  disbelieve,  but  must  remain  in 
suspense.  Now  this  is  the  secret  of  nine-tenths  of  the  differ- 
ences of  opinion,  and  of  the  sharp  disputes  by  which  this 
world  is  made  so  noisy  a  scene.  Men  jump  at  conclusions 
before  they  distinctly  understand  the  premises,  and  as  each 
one  sees  only  a  part  of  what  he  ought  to  see  before  forming 
his  opinion,  it  is  not  surprising  that  each  should  see  a  differ- 
ent part,  and  should  consequently  be  led  to  different  results. 
They  then  fall  into  a  dispute,  each  presenting  Ins  own  par- 
tial view,  and  shutting  his  eyes  to  that  exhibited  by  his 
opponent. 

Some  of  the  mistakes  which  men  thus  fall  into  are  mel- 
ancholy ;  others  only  ludicrous.  Some  European  traveller 
showed  a  map  of  the  world  to  a  Chinese  philosopher.  The 
philosopher  looked  at  it  a  few  moments,  and  then  turned 
with  a  proud  and  haughty  look,  and  said  to  the  by-standers, 
"  This  map  is  entirely  wrong  ;  the  English  know  nothing  of 
geography.  They  have  got  China  out  upon  one  side  of  the 
world,  whereas  it  is,  in  fact,  exactly  in  the  middle." 

Multitudes  of  amusing  stories  are  related  by  travellers 
of  the  mistakes  and  misconceptions  and  false  reasonings  of 
semibarbarous  people,  about  the  subjects  of  European  science 
and  philosophy.  They  go  to  reasoning  at  once,  and  fall  into 
the  grossest  errors  ;  but  still,  they  have  much  more  confi- 
dence in  their  silly  speculations,  than  in  any  evidence  which 
their  minds  are  capable  of  receiving. 

But  you  will  perhaps  say,  Do  you  mean  to  compare  us 
with  such  savages  ?  Yes  ;  the  human  mind,  in  its  tenden- 
cies, is  everywhere  the  same.  The  truths  which  relate  to  the 
world  of  spirits  are,  to  us,  what  European  science  is  to  a 
South  Sea  islander.  Our  minds  experience  the  same  diffi- 
culty in  grasping  them,  and  we  hurry  to  the  same  wild  spec- 
ulations and  false  conclusions. 


108  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

It  is  not  surprising  that  the  truths  contained  in  a  reve- 
lation from  heaven  should  be  beyond  our  grasp.  "VYe  cannot 
even  fairly  grasp  the  truths  relating  to  the  mere  physical 
motions  of  this  earth.  We  know,  for  instance,  that  the  dis- 
tinction doivnivard  is  only  toivards  the  earth.  Now  let 
your  imagination  extend  half  round  the  globe.  Think  of  the 
people  who  are  standing  upon  it,  exactly  opposite  to  our- 
selves, and  try  to  realize  that  downward  is  towards  the  earth 
there.  You  believe  it,  I  know  ;  but  can  you,  in  the  expres- 
sive phrase  of  children,  make  it  seem  so  ? 

Again,  you  know,  if  you  believe  that  the  earth  revolves, 
that  the  room  you  are  in  revolves  with  it,  and  that  conse- 
quently it  was,  six  hours  ago,  in  a  position  the  reverse  of 
what  it  now  is- — so  that  the  floor  was  in  a  direction  cor- 
responding to  that  of  the  walls  now.  Now  can  you,  by  any 
mental  effort,  realize  this  ?  Or  will  you  acknowledge  that 
even  this  simple  astronomical  subject  is  beyond  your  grasp  ? 

Once  more.  Suppose  the  earth  and  sun  and  stars  were 
all  annihilated,  and  one  small  ball  existed  alone  in  space. 
You  can  imagine  this  state  of  things  for  a  moment.  Now 
there  would  be,  as  you  well  know,  if  you  have  the  slightest 
astronomical  knowledge,  no  down  or  up  in  such  case,  for 
there  would  be  no  central  body  to  attract.  Now  when  you 
fancy  this  ball  thus  floating  in  empty  space,  can  you  realize 
that  there  would  be  no  tendency  in  it  to  move  in  one  direc- 
tion rather  than  another  ?  You  may  believe  that  it  would 
not  move  ;  but  fix  your  mind  upon  it  for  a  moment,  and 
then  look  off  from  it,  first  in  one  direction,  then  in  another, 
until  you  have  looked  in  every  direction,  and  can  you  make 
all  these  seem  the  same  ?  No  ;  we  cannot  divest  ourselves 
of  the  impression  that  one  of  these  is  more  properly  up,  and 
the  other  more  properly  down,  though  the  slightest  astro- 
nomical knowledge  will  convince  us  that  this  impression  is 
a  mere  delusion.  Even  this  simple  and  unquestionable  truth 
is  beyond  the  grasp  of  the  human  mind,  at  lea*t  until  after 


DIFFICULTIES  IN  RELIGION.  109 

it  has,  by  very  long  contemplation  on  such  subjects,  divested 
itself  of  the  prejudices  of  the  senses. 

Is  it  surprising,  then,  that  when  a  revelation  comes  to  us 
from  a  world  which  is  entirely  unseen  and  unknown,  describ- 
ing to  us  in  some  degree  God's  character  and  the  principles 
of  his  government,  there  should  be  many  things  in  it  which 
we  cannot  now  understand  ?  No.  There  are,  and  from  the 
nature,  of  the  case  must  be,  a  thousand  difficulties  insuper- 
able to  us  at  present.  Now  if  we  do  not  cordially  feel  and 
admit  this,  we  shall  waste  much  time  in  needless  perplexity. 
My  object,  in  this  chapter,  is  to  convince  all  who  read  it, 
that  they  must  expect  to  find  difficulties,  insuperable  diffi- 
culties, in  the  various  aspects  of  religious  truth,  and  to  try  to 
persuade  you  to  admit  this,  and  to  repose  quietly  in  acknow- 
ledged ignorance,  in  those  cases  where  the  human  mind  can- 
not know.  The  difficulties  are  never  questions  of  practical 
duty,  and  sometimes  are  very  remotely  connected  with  any 
religious  truth.  Some  of  them  I  shall  however  describe,  not 
with  the  design  of  explaining  them,  because  I  purposely  col- 
lect such  as  I  believe  cannot  be  explained  satisfactorily  to 
young  persons,  but  with  the  design  of  bringing  all  cordially 
to  feel  that  they  must  be  ignorant,  and  that  they  may  as 
well  acknowledge  their  ignorance  at  once. 

First  difficulty.  It  is  a  common  opinion  that  God  exist- 
ed before  the  creation  of  the  world,  alone  and  unemployed 
from  eternity.  Now  the  difficulty  is  this  :  How  could  a  being 
who  was  infinite  in  benevolence  and  power  waste  all  that 
time,  when  it  might  have  been  employed  in  making  millions 
and  millions  happy?  The_creation  was  not  far  from  six 
thousand  years  ago,  and  six  thousand  years,  compared  with 
the  eternity  beyond,  are  nothing.  So  that  it  would  seem 
that  almost  the  whole  of  the  existence  of  a  benevolent  and 
omnipotent  Being,  who  delights  in  doing  good  and  promot- 
ing happiness,  has  been  spent  in  doing  nothing. 

Perhaps  some  one  will  make  an  effort  to  escape  from  the 


HO  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

difficulty  by  supposing,  what  is  very  probably  true,  that 
other  worlds  were  created  long  before  this.  But  let  such 
an  one  consider,  that  however  remote  the  first  creation  may 
have  been,  there  is  beyond  it,  so  far  as  we  can  see,  an  eter- 
nity of  solitude  and  inaction. 

Remember,  I  say  so  far  as  ive  can  see,  for  I  am  far  from 
believing  that  Jehovah  has  ever  wasted  time.  I  know 
nothing  about  it ;  I  can  see  and  reason  just  far  enough  to 
perceive  that  the  whole  subject  is  beyond  my  grasp,  and  I 
leave  it,  contented  not  to  know,  and  not  to  pretend  to  know 
any  thing  about  it. 

After  reading  these  remarks  at  one  time  to  an  assembly 
of  young  persons,  several  of  them  gathered  around  me,  and 
attempted  to  show  that  there  was  in  fact  no  difficulty  in 
this  first  case. 

"  Why,"  said  I,  "  what  explanation  have  you  ?" 

"  I  think,"  was  the  reply,  "  that  God  might  have  been 
creating  worlds  from  all  eternity,  and  thus  never  have  been 
unemployed." 

"  If  that  had  been  the  case,"  replied  I,  "  would  or  would 
not  some  one  of  these  worlds  have  been  eternal  ?" 
"  Yes,  sir,"  they  all  answered  with  one  voice. 

"  Then  you  suppose  that  some  of  these  worlds  were  eter- 
nal and  others  not.  The  first  which  were  created  had  no 
beginning ;  but  after  a  time,  according  to  this  hypothesis, 
Jehovah  began  to  create  them  at  definite  periods.  This  is 
evidently  absurd.  Besides,  those  which  were  eternal  must 
have  existed  as  long  as  God  has  existed  ;  and  if  you  admit 
that,  it  seems  that  you  must  admit  that  they  are  indepen- 
dent of  God;  for  if  they  have  existed  for  ever,  they  could 
not  have  been  created." 

One  of  the  party  attempted  to  avoid  this  by  saying,  that 
though  the  lolwle  series  of  creations  has  been  eternal,  yet 
that  every  particular  creation  may  have  been  at  some 
definite   point  of  time  ;    so  that  each  one  world  has  had 


DIFFICULTIES  IN  RELIGION.  Ill 

but  a  limited  existence,  though  the  whole  series  has  been 
eternal. 

"But,"  said  I,  "can  you  conceive,  clearly  conceive,  of 
an  eternal  series  of  creations  of  matter,  without  believing 
that  some  matter  itself  is  eternal  ?  And  if  you  suppose 
matter  itself  to  be  eternal,  can  you  understand  how  God 
can  have  created  that  which  has  existed  as  long  as  he  has 
himself?" 

This  was  the  substance  of  the  conversation,  which, 
however,  in  all  its  details,  occupied  half  an  hour.  And  I 
believe  all  who  engaged  in  it  cordially  acknowledged  that 
the  whole  subject  was  entirely  beyond  the  grasp  of  their 
minds. 

As  this_book  may  fall  into  the  hands -of  some  theological 
scholar,  I  beg  that  he  will  bear  in  mind  that  I  do  not  present 
this  subject  as  one  that  would  perplex  him,  but  as  one 
which  must  perplex  the  young.  I  maintain,  that  whatever 
trained  metaphysicians  may  understand,  or  fancy  that  they 
can  understand,  it  is  entirely  beyond  the  reach  of  such  minds 
as  those  for  whom  this  book  is  intended. 

Second  difficulty.  When  in  a  still  and  cloudless  summer 
evening  you  have  looked  upon  the  stars  of  the  sky,  you  have 
often  wondered  at  the  almost  boundless  extent  of  the  crea- 
tion. That  faint  star  which  twinkles  so  feebly  that  you 
almost  fear  that  the  next  gentle  breeze  will  extinguish  it, 
or  that  the  next  light  cloud  will  sweep  it  away,  has  burned 
with  the  same  feeble  but  inextinguishable  beam  ever  since 
the  creation.  The  sun  has  blazed  around  the  heavens — 
storms  have  agitated  and  wrecked  the  skies — the  moon  has 
waxed  and  waned  over  it ;  but  it  burns  on  the  same.  It 
may  be  obscured  by  some  commotion  of  the  elements  for  a 
time  ;  but  when  cloud  and  storm  have  passed  away,  you 
will  find  it  shining  on  unchanged,  in  the  same  place,  and 
with  the  same  brightness,  and  with  precisely  the  same  hue 
which  it  exhibited  before  the  flood. 


112  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

It  is  a  great  blazing  sun,  burning  at  its  immense  distance 
with  inconceivable  brightness  and  glory,  probably  surrounded 
by  many  worlds  whose  millions  of  inhabitants  are  cheered 
by  its  rays.  Now,  as  you  all  well  know,  every  star  which 
twinkles  in  the  sky,  and  thousands  of  others  which  the  tel- 
escope alone  brings  to  view,  are  probably  thus  surrounded 
by  life  and  intelligence  and  happiness  in  ten  thousand  forms. 
Stand  now  under  the  open  sky,  and  estimate  as  largely  as 
you  please  the  extent  of  the  creation.  However  widely  you 
may  in  imagination  expand  its  boundaries,  still  it  seems  to 
human  reason  that  it  must  have  a  limit.  Now,  go  with  me 
in  imagination  to  that  limit.  Let  us  take  our  station  at  the 
remotest  star,  and  look  upon  the  one  side  into  the  regions 
which  God  has  filled  with  intelligence  and  happiness ;  and 
on  the  other  side  into  the  far  wider  regions  of  gloomy  dark- 
ness and  solitude  that  lie  beyond.  Make  the  circle  of  the 
habitable  universe  as  large  as  you  will,  how  much  more 
extensive,  according  to  any  ideas  of  space  which  we  can 
form,  must  be  the  dreary  waste  beyond.  The  regions  which 
God  has  filled  by  his  works  and  plans  dwindle  to  a  little 
fertile  island  in  the  midst  of  a  boundless  ocean.  But  why 
is  this?  "Who  can  explain  or  understand  how  a  Being 
boundless  in  power  and  desirous  of  promoting  the  greatest 
possible  amount  of  enjoyment,  can  leave  so  immense  a  por- 
tion unoccupied,  and  confine  all  his  works  to  a  region  which, 
though  immense  to  our  conceptions,  is,  after  all,  but  a  little 
spot,  a  mere  point,  compared  with  the  boundless  expanse 

around  ? 

Now,  I  by  no  means  believe  that  there  is  such  an 
immense  void  as  my  reasoning  seems  to  prove  there  must 
be.  My  object  is  to  show,  that  in  these  subjects  which 
are  beyond  our  grasp,  we  may  reason  plausibly,  and  only 
plunge  ourselves  in  difficulties  without  end.  Therefore  on 
/  such  subjects  I  distrust  all  reasoning.  I  never  reason  on 
them  except  for  the  purpose  of  showing  how  utterly  tho 


DIFFICULTIES  IN  RELIGION.  113 

subject  is  "beyond  our  grasp  ;  and  in  regard  to  such  ques- 
tions, I  have  no  opinion — I  believe  nothing,  and  disbelieve 
nothing. 

Third  difficulty.  The_existence  of  suffering.  It  seems 
to  me  that  the  human  mind  is  utterly  incapable  of  explain- 
ing how  suffering  can  find  its  way  into  any  world  which  is 
under  the  control  of  a  benevolent  and  an  omnipotent  God. 
If  he  is  benevolent,  he  will  desire  to  avoid  all  suffering  ;  and 
if  he  is  omnipotent,  he  will  be  able  to  do  it.  Now,  this 
reasoning  seems  to  be  a  perfect  moral  demonstration ;  no 
person  can  reply  to  it.  Some  one  may  faintly  say,  that  the 
suffering  we  witness  is  the  means  of  producing  a  highei 
general  good ;  and  then  I  have  only  to  ask,  But  why  could 
not  an  omnipotent  Being  secure  the  higher  good  without 
the  suffering  ?  And  it  is  a  question  which  it  seems  to  me 
no  man  can  answer.  The  only  rational  course  which  we 
can  take  is  to  say,  sincerely  and  cordially,  we  do  not  know. 
We  are  just  commencing  our  existence,  just  beginning  to 
think  and  to  reason  about  our  Creator's  plans,  and  we 
must  expect  to  rind  hundreds  of  subjects  which  we  cannot 
understand. 

Fourth  difficulty.  Human  accountability.  Instead  of 
calling  this  a  difficulty,  I  ought  to  call  it  a  cluster  of  diffi- 
culties ;  for  unanswerable  questions  may  be  raised  without 
end  out  of  this  subject. 

Look  at  yonder  gloomy  procession.  In  the  cart  there 
sits  a  man  who  has  been  convicted  of  piracy  and  murder 
upon  the  high  seas,  and  he  is  condemned  to  die.  Now,  that 
man  was  taught  from  his  youth  to  be  a  robber  and  a  mur- 
derer ;  he  was  trained  up  to  blood  :  conscience  did  doubtless 
remonstrate  ;  there  was  a  law  written  on  his  heart  which 
condemned  him ;  but  he  was  urged  on  by  his  companions, 
and  perhaps  by  his  very  father,  to  stifle  its  voice.  Had  he 
been  born  and  brought  up  in  a  Christian  land  with  a  kind 
Christian  parent,  and  surrounded  by  the  influences  of  the 


114  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

Bible  and  the  church  and  the  Sabbath-school,  he  would 
undoubtedly  never  have  committed  the  deed.  And  yet  he 
must  be  punished  for  a  crime  which,  had  he  been  in  our 
circumstances,  he  would  not  have  committed  ;  and  which 
his  very  judge  perhaps  would  have  been  guilty  of,  had  he 
been  exposed  to  the  temptations  which  overwhelmed  the 
prisoner. 

In  a  multitude  of  books  on  metaphysics,  the  following 
train  of  reasoning  is  presented.  The  human  mind,  as  it 
comes  from  the  hand  of  the  Creator,  is  endued  with  certain 
susceptibilities  to  be  affected  by  external  objects.  For  in- 
stance, an  injury  awakens  resentment  in  every  mind.  The 
heart  is  so  constituted,  that  when  the  youngest  child  receives 
an  injury  which  it  can  understand,  a  feeling  of  resentment 
comes  up  in  his  breast.  It  need  not  have  been  so — indeed, 
it  would  not  have  been  so,  but  for  the  fall.  W  e  might 
unquestionably  have  been  so  formed  that  mere  compassion 
for  the  guilt  of  the  individual  who  had  inflicted  it,  or  a 
simple  desire  to  remove  the  suffering,  or  any  other  feeling 
whatever,  might  rise.  But  God  decided,  when  he  formed 
our  minds,  what  should  be  their  tendencies. 

He  has  not  only  decided  upon  the  constitutional  tenden- 
cies of  the  mind,  but  has  arranged  all  the  circumstances  to 
which  each  individual  is  to  be  exposed ;  and  these,  so  far  as 
we  can  see,  constitute  the  whole  which  affects  the  formation 
of  character — the  original  tendencies  and  the  circumstances 
of  life  by  which  they  are  developed  or  restrained.  God  has, 
therefore,  the  whole  control  in  the  formation  of  the  charac- 
ter of  every  individual. 

This  seems,  at  least  to  a  great  many  minds,  perfect  dem- 
onstration ;  and  it  brings  us  at  once  to  that  greatest  of  all 
questions  in  physics  or  metaphysics,  in  the  whole  circle  of 
human  inquiry — a  question  which  has  caused  more  disputes, 
destroyed  more  Christian  peace  of  mind,  given  rise  to  more 
vai«i  systems  formed  by  philosophical  attempts  to  evade  the 


DIFFICULTIES  IN  RELIGION.  115 

difficulty,  than  almost  any  other  question  whatever  :  How 
can  man  be  accountable,  when  God  has  had  such  entire 
control  in  the  formation  of  his  character  ? 

I  know  that  some  among  my  readers  will  think  that  I 
make  the  difficulty  greater  than  it  is.  They  will  think  they 
can  see  much  to  lighten  it,  and  will  perhaps  deny  some  of 
my  assumptions.  Of  such  an  one  I  would  simply  ask,  were 
he  hefore  me — after  having  heard  all  he  should  have  to  say 
on  the  subject — "  Can  you,  sir,  after  all,  honestly  say  that 
you  understand,  clearly  understand,  how  man  can  be  fully 
accountable,  and  yet  his  heart  be  as  much  under  divine  con- 
trol as  it  certainly  is  ?"  Every  honest  man  will  acknowledge 
that  he  is  often,  in  his  thoughts  on  this  subject,  lost  in  per- 
plexity, and  forced  to  admit  the  narrow  limit  of  the  human 
powers. 

But  again.  No  one  denies  that  Grod  foreknows  perfectly 
every  thing  that  happens.  Now,  suppose  a  father  were  to  \ 
say  to  his  child,  "  My  son,  you  are  going  to  a  scene  of  temp- 
tation to-day ;  you  will  be  exposed  to  some  injury,  and  will 
be  in  danger  of  using  some  harsh  and  resentful  words. 
Noav,  I  wish  you  to  be  careful.  Bear  injury  patiently,  and 
do  not  use  opprobrious  language  in  return." 

All  this  would  be  very  well ;  but  suppose  that  in  addition 
the  father  were  to  say,  "My  son,  I  have  contrived  to  ascer- 
tain what  you  will  say,  and  I  have  written  here  upon  this 
paper  every  word  you  will  utter  to-day." 

"  Every  word  you  think  I  shall  speak,  you  mean,"  says 

the  boy. 

"No,"  says  the  father,  "every  word  you  ivill  speak; 
they  are  all  written  exactly.  I  have  by  some  mysterious 
means  ascertained  them,  and  here  they  are.  And  it  is  ab- 
solutely certain  that  you  will  speak  every  thing  which  is 
written  here,  and  not  a  syllable  besides." 

Could  any  boy,  after  such  a  statement,  go  away  believ- 
ing what  his  father  had  said,  and  yet  feeling  that  he  himself 


116  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

could  be,  notwithstanding,  free  to  act  and  speak  that  day  as 
he  pleased  ?* 

Xow  God  knows,  as  all  will  acknowledge,  every  thing 
which  will  take  place,  just  as  certainly  as  if  it  were  written. 
The  mere  fact  of  expressing  it  in  language  would  make  no 
difference.  We  may  consider  our  future  conduct  to  be  as 
clearly  known,  and  as  certain,  as  if  our  histories  were  mi- 
nutely written  ;  and  where  is  the  man — with  perhaps  the 
exception  of  a  few  who  have  made  metaphysical  philosophy 
a  study  for  years — who  will  not  acknowledge  that  this  truth, 
which  nobody  will  deny,  throws  a  little  perplexity  over  his 
mind  when  he  looks  at  that  moral  freedom  and  entire  ac- 
countability which  the  Bible  and  human  consciousness  both 
attribute  to  man  ? 

Fifth  difficulty.  It  is  common  to  prove  the  existence  of 
God  from  his  works  in  the  following  manner  :  "We  see  cre- 
ated objects  ;  they  must  have  had  a  cause,  for  nothing  can 
arise  out  of  nothing.  There  must  have  been,  therefore,  some 
great  first  cause  which  we  call  God. 

I\  ow  this  reasoning  is  very  plausible  ;  but  suppose  the 
infidel  to  whom  you  present  it  should  say,  "  But  what  brought 
God  into  existence  ?" 

You  answer,  "He  is  uncaused." 

"Very  well,"  he  replies,  "then  he  came  from  nothing; 
so  that  it  seems  something  can  come  from  nothing." 

"No,"  you  reply,  "  he  existed  from  eternity." 

*  Let  it  be  remembered,  that  I  am  writing  for  the  young,  and  am 
enumerating  difficulties  insuperable  to  them.  A  mind  long  accustomed 
to  the  accuracy  of  metaphysical  inquiries  will  see  that  the  antecedent 
certainty  of  any  act  proves  only  the  greatness  of  the  intellect  which 
can  foresee  it ;  it  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  freedom  of  the  moral  agent 
by  which  it  is  performed.  If  any  one  supposes  that  there  is  no  great 
difficulty  for  the  young  in  this  subject,  let  him  try  to  convince  an  in- 
telligent boy,  that,  under  such  circumstances  as  are  above  described, 
he  could  be  free  to  speak  gently  or  angrily,  solely  according  to  his  own 
free  will. 


DIFFICULTIES   IN   RELFGION.  117 

"And  I  suppose,"  replies  the_atheist,  "  that  the  world 
has  existed  uncaused  from  all  eternity  ;  and  why  is  not  my 
supposition  as  good  as  yours  ?  There  are  no  more  marks  of 
design  in  the  structure  of  this  earth,  than  there  are  in  the 
nicely  balanced  and  adjusted  powers  and  attributes  of  Je- 
hovah." 

Now  this  does  not  shake  my  confidence  in  the  being  of  a 
God.  Notwithstanding  the  difficulty  of  reasoning  with  an 
infidel  who  is  determined  not  to  be  convinced,  the  proofs 
from  marks  of  design  are  conclusive  to  every  unbiassed  mind. 
We  know  there  is  a  God — every  man  knows  there  is  ; 
though  they  who  are  resolved  to  break  his  laws  sometimes 
vainly  seek  shelter  in  a  denial  of  his  existence :  like  the  fool- 
ish child  who,  when  at  midnight  the  thunder-storm  rages  in 
the  skies,  buries  his  face  in  his  pillow,  and  fancies  that  he 
finds  protection  from  the  forked  lightning  by  just  shutting 
his  eyes  to  its  glare.  No  ;  it  only  shakes  my  confidence  in 
all  abstract  reasonings  upon  subjects  which  are  beyond  my 
grasp. 

(Sixth  difficulty.  How  can  God  really  answer  prayer 
without  in  fact  miraculously  interrupting  the  course  of  na- 
ture ?  That  God  does  answer  prayer  by  an  exertion  of  his 
power  in  cases  to  which  human  influence  does  not  reach, 
seems  evident  from  the  following  passage  :  "  The  effectual 
fervent  prayer  of  a  righteous  man  avail eth  much.  Elias 
was  a  man  subject  to  like  passions  as  we  are,  and  he  prayed 
earnestly  that  it  might  not  rain  ;  and  it  rained  not  on  the 
earth  by  the  space  of  three  years  and  six  months.  And  he 
prayed  again,  and  the  heaven  gave  rain,  and  the  earth 
brought  forth  her  fruit."  James  5  :  16-18.  Now,  if  the 
natural  effect  of  prayer  as  an  exercise  of  the  heart  were  all, 
this  illustration  would  be  altogether  inappropriate.  It  must 
teach  that  the  prayers  of  men  will  have  an  influence  with 
Jehovah,  so  that  he  shall  order,  differently  from  what  he 
otherwise  would  do,  events  beyond  human  control.     Now 


s 


118  THE  YOUNG   CHRISTIAN. 

how  can  this  in  fact  be  done  without  a  miracle  ?  A  miracle, 
is  nothing  more  than  an  interruption  of  the  ordinary  course 
of  nature.  Now,  if  the  ordinary  course  of  nature  would  in 
any  case  bring  us  what  we  ask,  it  is  plain  we  do  not  owe  it 
to  God's  answering  prayer.  If  the  regular  course  of  nature 
would  not  bring  it,  then  it  seems  that  God  cannot  grant  the 
request  without  interrupting  more  or  less  that  course,  and 
this  is  a  miracle.  This  reasoning  appears  simple  enough, 
and  it  is  difficult  to  see  how  the  conclusion  can  be  avoided. 

But  to  make  the  point  plainer,  let  me  suppose  a  case. 
A  mother,  whose  son  is  sick  in  a  foreign  port,  asks  for  prayers 
in  a  seaman's  chapel,  that  he  may  be  restored  to  health  and 
returned  in  safety.  The  young  man  is  perhaps  ten  thousand 
miles  from  home.  The  prayer  can  have  no  power  to  put 
in  operation  any  earthly  cause  which  can  reach  him.  If  it 
reaches  him  at  all,  it  must  be  by  a  divine  interposition. 

But  how  can  God  answer  this  prayer  without  in  reality 
interfering  miraculously  with  the  laws  of  nature  ?  If  the 
young  man  would  have  recovered  without  it,  then  his  resto- 
ration cannot  very  correctly  be  said  to  be  in  answer  to  prayer. 
If  he  recovers,  when,  without  the  prayer,  he  would  have 
died,  then  it  seems  very  plain  that  God  must  interfere  some- 
where  to  interrupt  what  would  have  been  the  ordinary  course 
of  nature  ;  he  must  arrest  supernaturally  the  progress  of  the 
disease,  or  give  to  medicine  an  efficacy  which,  without  his 
special  interference,  it  would  not  have  possessed  ;  or  suggest 
to  his  physician  a  course  of  treatment  which  the  ordinary 
laws  of  thought  would  not  have  presented  to  his  mind  ; 
either  of  which,  according  to  any  pliilosophical  definition,  is 
a  miracle. 

Now  undoubtedly  God,  in  some  secret  way  that  we 
cannot  now  understand,  can,  without  disturbing  the  laws 
of  nature,  grant  our  requests.  The  difficulty  is  merely  one 
to  our  limited  powers ;  but  to  these  powers  it  is  insur- 
mountable. 


DIFFICULTIES  IN  RELIGION.  119 

I  mi^ht  o-o  on  with  such  an  enumeration  to  an  indefinite 
length  ;  but  I  have,  I  hope,  already  brought  up  points  enough ; 
and  let  mv  reader  remember,  that  it  is  not  necessary  for  my 
purpose  that  he  should  admit  that  all  these  questions  are 
beyond  the  grasp  of  his  mind.  It  is  enough  for  my  present 
object,  that  each  one  will  admit  that  some  of  them  are. 
One  will  say  that  he  can  understand  the  subject  of  God's 
answering  prayer ;  another  will  think  there  is  no  difficulty 
in  regard  to  God's  foreknowledge  of  human  actions  ;  and 
thus  every  reader  will  perhaps  find  some  one  of  these  which 
he  thinks  he  understands.  But  will  not  each  one  acknow- 
ledge that  there  are  some  winch  he  cannot  understand  ?  If 
so,  he  will  cordially  feel  that  there  are  subjects  connected 
with  important  religious  truth  which  are  beyond  the  grasp  ^ 
of  the  human  mind,  and  this  conviction  is  what  I  have  been 
endeavoring  to  establish. 

The  real  difficulties  which  I  have  brought  to  view  in  the 
preceding  pages  are  few.  They  are  only  brought  up  again 
and  again  in  different  forms,  that  they  might  be  more  clearly 
seen.  Eternal  duration  ;  infinite  space  ;  the  nature  of  moral 
agency — these  are  the  fountains  of  perplexity  from  which,  in 
various  ways,  I  have  drawn  in  this  chapter.  They  are  sub- 
jects which  the  human  mind  cannot  grasp,  and  they  involve 
in  difficulty  every  proposition  of  which  they  form  an  element. 
You  may  remove  the  difficulty  from  one  part  of  the  ground 
to  the  other,  you  may  conceal  it  by  sophistry,  you  may  ob- 
scure it  by  declamation ;  but,  after  all  that  you  have  done, 
it  will  remain  a  difficulty  still,  and  the  acute  and  candid 
mind  will  see  its  true  character  through  all  the  forms  hi 
which  you  may  attempt  to  disguise  it.  The  disputes  and 
the  theorizing  with  which  the  theological  world  is  filled  on 
the  subject  of  moral  agency,  for  example  :  the  vain  attempts 
to  form  some  philosophical  theory  which  will  explain  the 
subject,  remind  me  of  the  labors  of  a  schoolboy  endeavoring 
to  solve  an  equation  containing  one  "  irrational  term."     He 


120  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

transposes  the  troublesome  surd  from  one  side  to  the  other- 
he  multiplies  and  divides  it — he  adds  to  it  and  subtracts 
from  it — he  tries  involution  and  evolution  upon  it ;  but  not- 
withstanding every  metamorphosis,  it  remains  a  surd  still ; 
and  though  he  may  have  lost  sight  of  it  himself,  by  throwing 
it  into  some  complicated  multinomial  expression,  the  prac- 
tised mathematician  will  see,  by  a  glance  of  the  eye,  that  an 
insuperable  difficulty  is  there. 

Sojhese  great  moral  subjects  contain  intrinsic  and  insur- 
mountable difficulties,  which  it  is  most  philosophical  to  ac- 
knowledge, not  to  deny  or  conceal.  "We  ought  to  be  willing 
to  remain,  in  a  measure,  ignorant  on  such  subjects,  if  ice  can 
only  distinctly  knoio  our  duty.  It  is  indeed  best,  in  ordi- 
nary cases,  to  look  into  the  subject — to  examine  it  carefully, 
so  as  to  find  where  the  difficulty  is — see  what  firm  ground 
we  have  all  around  it,  and  let  the  region  of  uncertainty  and 
ignorance  be  circumscribed  by  a  definite  boundary.  But 
when  this  is  done,  look  calmly  upon  the  surface  of  the  deep 
which  you  know  you  cannot  sound,  and  acknowledge  the 
limit  of  your  powers  with  a  humble  and  quiet  spirit. 

In  order  to  avoid  that  mental  anxiety  which  the  contem- 
plation of  insurmountable  difficulty  is  calculated  to  awaken, 
it  is  well  to  make  a  broad  and  constant  distinction  between 
a  theoretical  and  practical  question.  The  inquiry  what  duty 
is,  is  in  every  case  a  practical  question.  The  principles  upon 
which  that  duty  is  required  form  often  a  mere  question  of 
theory,  into  which  it  is  of  no  importance  that  we  should 
enter.  Shall  the  Sabbath  commence  on  Saturday  evening 
or  on  Sunday  morning?  That  is  a  practical  difficulty. 
Your  decision  of  it  will  affect  your  practice  at  once.  "Why 
did  God  appoint  one  day  in  seven,  rather  than  one  in  six  or 
one  in  eight,  for  holy  time?"  That  is  just  as  plainly  theo- 
retical. Now  almost  every  question  relating  to  the  reasons 
which  influence  th?  Creator  in  his  dealings  with  men — 
questions  in  regard  to  the  essence  of  his  character,  the  con- 


DIFFICULTIES   IN  RELIGION.  121 

6titution  of  man  as  a  moral  being,  the  grounds  on  which  he 
permitted  the  introduction  of  moral  evil  amidst  the  creations 
of  his  hand — these  are  theoretical  questions.  If  we  believe 
the  plain  declarations  of  the  Bible  in  regard  to  the  facts  on 
these  subjects,  those  facts  will  indeed  influence  our  conduct, 
but  we  may  safely  leave  the  theory  to  Him  who  has  the 
responsibility  of  reigning  in  the  universe. 

Take,  for  instance,  the  question  of  eternal  punishment. 
There  is  a  great  deal  of  speculation  on  what  ought  and  what 
ought  not  to  be  the  doom  of  impenitent  sinners  who  continue 
in  sin  during  their  period  of  probation.  But  what  reasona- 
ble man  who  will  reflect  a  moment,  can  imagine  that  any 
human  mind  can  take  in  such  a  view  of  God's  administra- 
tion as  to  enable  it  really  to  grasp  this  question  ?  "W  hat 
powers  can  comprehend  so  fully  the  nature  and  the  conse- 
quences of  sin  and  punishment — not  for  a  few  years  only, 
but  for  ever  ;  and  not  upon  a  few  minds  only,  but  upon  the 
universe,  as  to  be  able  to  form  any  opinion  at  all  in  regard 
to  the  course  which  the  Supreme  ought  to  take  in  the  pun- 
ishment of  sin  ?  Why,  the  noisy,  riotous  tenants  of  a  crowd- 
ed jail-room  are  far  more  capable  of  discussing  the  principles 
of  penal  jurisprudence  than  we  are  of  forming  any  opinion, 
upon  abstract  grounds,  of  the  proper  extent  and  duration  of 
future  punishment.  The  jailer  would  say  to  his  prisoners, 
if  they  remonstrated  with  him  on  the  severity  of  their  sen- 
tence, "  The  law  decides  tins  question  ;  we  have  nothing  to 
do  with  it :  the  law  will  be  executed."  And  so,  if  a  man 
should  attempt  to  reason  with  me  to  prove,  on  abstract 
grounds,  that  a  holy  God  cannot  inflict  eternal  punishment, 
might  I  not  say  to  him,  "  Sir,  why  do  you  perplex  me  with 
the  question  of  the  punishment  of  the  enemies  of  God  ?  I 
have  not  that  punishment  to  assign.  God  says,  that  the 
wicked  shall  go  away  into  everlasting  punishment.  He  has 
decided.  I  cannot  stand  on  the  eminence  which  he  occupies, 
and  see  all  that  led  him  to  this  decision.     My  duty  is,  to  be- 

Y.  Christian.  6 


122  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

lieve  what  he  says,  and  to  escape  as  swiftly  as  I  can  to  the 
Refuge  from  that  storm." 

Nine-tenths  of  the  difficulties  which  beset  the  paths  of 
young  Christians  would  he  avoided  by  such  a  spirit  as  this  : 
by  our  taking  God's  decisions,  and  spending  our  strength  in 
performing  the  practical  duties  which  arise  from  them,  and 
leaving  the  grounds  of  those  decisions  with  him. 

This  principle  may  be  applied  in  a  multitude  of  cases  in 
which  Scripture  declarations  are  a  ground  of  doubt  and  dif- 
ficulty to  Christians.  "  Work  out  your  own  salvation  with 
fear  and  trembling  ;  for  it  is  God  that  worketh  in  yon  both  to 
will  and  to  do  of  his  good  pleasure."  So  far  as  this  text  is 
considered  in  its  practical  aspects,  how  plain  and  simple  it 
is  ;  and  yet  how  easy  to  lose  ourselves  in  the  theoretical 
speculations  to  which  it  may  give  rise.  The  duties  it  re- 
quires are  plain  and  simple.  Make  effort  yourself  with  pa- 
tient fidelity,  but  feel  at  the  same  time  a  humble  sense  of 
your  dependence  upon  God.  The  theory  upon  which  these 
two  duties  are  founded,  is  lost  in  obscurity  which  the  human 
mind  cannot  penetrate. 

The  words  "  work  out,"  etc.,  seem  to  imply  that  the 
power  necessary  to  perform  the  duty  rests  with  man,  while 
the  latter  part  of  the  verse,  "for  it  is  God,"  etc.,  seems  to 
attribute  it  to  God.  How  is  this  ?  What  degree  of  agency 
has  man  himself  in  the  production  of  those  holy  feelings 
which  the  Bible  represents  as  necessary  to  salvation,  and 
how  far  are  they  the  work  of  God  ?  This  is  a  question 
Avhich,  as  has  been  already  remarked,  has  come  up  in  a 
thousand  forms.  It  has  been  the  foundation  of  many  a  cap- 
tious cavil,  as  well  as  of  many  an  honest  doubt.  If  the  Bible 
had  taught  us  that  man  alone  had  power  over  his  conduct, 
so  as  to  be  entirely  independent  of  an  over-ruling  hand,  we 
could  understand  it.  Or  if  it  had  maintained  that  God  reign- 
ed in  the  human  heart,  and  controlled  its  emotions  and  feel- 
ings to  such  an  extent  as  to  free  man  from  the  responsibil- 


DIFFICULTIES  IN  RELIGION.  123 

ity,  this  too  would  "be  plain.  But  it  takes  neither  of  these 
grounds.  In  some  passages  it  plainly  teaches  us  that  all 
the  responsibility  of  human  conduct  rests  upon  the  individual 
being  who  exhibits  it.  In  other  places  we  are  informed  that 
the  great  God  is  supreme  hi  the  moral  as  in  the  material 
world,  and  that  he  turns  the  hearts  of  men  as  surely  and  as 
easily  as  the  rivers  of  water.  And  these  two  truths,  so  per- 
plexing to  philosophy,  are  brought,  by  a  moral  daring  for 
which  the  Bible  is  remarkable,  directly  side  by  side  in  the 
passage  before  us.  There  is  no  softening  of  language  to  ob- 
scure the  distinctness  of  the  difficulty — there  are  no  terms  of 
limitation  to  bring  it  in  within  narrow  bounds — there  is  no 
interpretation  to  explain,  no  qualifications  to  modify.  But 
it  stands  fair  and  legible,  and  unalterable,  upon  the  pages  of 
the  word  of  God — saying  to  us  in  language  which  we  cannot 
misunderstand,  you  must  make  active  and  earnest  efforts 
yourselves  in  the  pursuit  of  holiness  ;  and  you  must  still  sub- 
mit to  the  power  that  rules  in  your  heart,  and  look  for  assist- 
ance to  God,  who  works  in  you  to  will  and  to  do. 

It  ought  however  to  be  said  again  and  again,  that  the 
difficulty  is  not  a  practical,  but  a  theoretical  one.  There  is 
no  difficulty  in  making  the  efforts  required  by  the  former 
part  of  the  passage,  and  at  the  same  time  in  feeling  the  de- 
pendence on  God  required  in  the  latter.  The  difficulty  is  in 
understanding  the  principle  upon  which  the  two  are  found- 
ed. It  seems  to  me  that  this  is  a  very  fundamental  point. 
Persons  seeking,  or  thinking  that  they  are  seeking  to  enter 
the  kingdom  of  heaven,  are  often  encumbered  with  these 
very  difficulties.  They  cannot  understand  the  comparative 
influence  which  God  and  man  have  over  the  human  heart, 
and  hence  they  remain  at  a  stand,  not  knowing  what  to  do. 
They  forget  that  the  difficulty,  great  as  it  is,  is  one  of  specu- 
lation, not  of  action,  .and  therefore  they  ought  not  to  waste 
a  thought  upon  it,  until  at  least  they  have  obtained  peace 
with  God.     Two  separate  duties  are   required.     We  can 


124  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

understand  them  well  enough,  and  they  are  not  inconsistent 
with  each  other.  Exert  yourselves  to  the  utmost  in  seek- 
ing salvation.  "What  difficulty  is  there  in  this?  Place 
all  your  hope  of  success  in  God.  "VYhat  difficulty  is  there 
in  this  ?  And  what  difficulty  is  there  in  making  exertion 
ourselves,  and  feeling  reliance  on  God  at  the  same  time? 
There  is  none.  It  has  been  done  a  thousand  times.  It  is 
done  by  thousands  now.  It  can  be  done  by  all.  But  we 
cannot  understand,  it  may  be  said,  the  principle  upon  which 
these  two  duties  are  enjoined.  True,  we  cannot  understand 
it.  The  theory  is  involved  in  darkness,  in  which  any  who 
choose  may  easily  lose  themselves ;  but  the  duties  are  plain. 
God  has  enjoined  them,  and,  as  dutiful  children,  we  ought 
to  feel  that  if  he  clearly  tells  us  what  we  are  to  do,  he 
may  properly  conceal  in  many  cases  the  reasons  of  his  re- 
quirements. 

There  are  three  or  four  very  common  evils  which,  by 
taking  up  the  subject  of  this  chapter  so  formally,  I  have  been 
wishing  to  remove.     I  will  mention  them  : 

1.  The  useless  perplexity  of  religious  inquirers.  A 
young  person,  perhaps  one  of  my  readers,  is  almost  persuaded 
to  be  a  Christian.  You  reflect  upon  your  lost  condition  as 
a  shiner,  and  feel  desolate  and  unhappy.  You  think  of  God's 
goodness  to  you,  and  are  half  inclined  to  come  to  him.  In- 
stead, however,  of  thinking  only  of  your  duty,  trusting  in 
Christ  for  pardon,  resisting  temptation,  and  commencing  a 
life  of  practical  piety,  you  immediately  seize  upon  some  the- 
oretical difficulty  connected  with  theology,  and  trouble  your- 
self about  that.  Perhaps  you  cannot  understand  how  God 
influences  the  human  heart,  or  how  man  can  be  accountable, 
if  the  Holy  Spirit  alone  sanctifies.  "  How  can  I  work  out 
my  own  salvation,"  you  say,  "  if  it  is  God  who  worketh  in 
me  to  will  and  to  do  ?"  Or  perhaps  you  perplex  your  head 
about  the  magnitude  or  duration  of  future  punishment,  or 


DIFFICULTIES  IN  RELIGION.  125 

the  number  who  will  be  saved,  as  though  the  administration 
of  Jehovah's  government  would  come  upon  your  shoulders  il 
you  became  a  Christian,  and  you  must  therefore  understand 
thoroughly  its  principles  before  you  incur  such  a  responsibil- 
ity. How  absurd  !  Can  you  not  trust  God  to  manage  his 
own  empire,  at  least  until  after  you  have  come  yourself  fully 
over  to  his  side  ? 

Suppose  a  child  were  to  show  a  disobedient  and  rebel- 
lious spirit  in  school,  and  should  be  called  upon  by  his  teacher 
to  reform,  and  should,  after  pausing  a  moment,  begin  to  say, 
"  I  ought  to  conduct  differently,  I  know,  and  I  think  seri- 
ously of  returning  to  my  duty.  But  there  are  some  things 
about  it  which  I  do  not  understand." 

"  What  things  ?"  says  the  teacher. 

"Why,"  says  the  boy,  "  I  do  not  see  what  I  should  do 
if  you  and  my  father  were  to  command  me  to  do  opposite 
things.      I   do  not  clearly  understand  whom    I   ought   to 

obey." 

"  Do  you  not  know,"  replies  the  teacher,  "that  you  now 
disobey  me  in  cases  where  your  father  and  myself  both  wish 
you  to  obey  ?  Come  and  do  your  duty  in  these.  You  have 
nothing  to  do  with  such  a  question  as  you  mention.  Come 
and  do  your  duty." 

"But,"  says  the  boy,  "there  is  another  great  difficulty, 
which  I  never  could  understand.  Suppose  my  father  or  you 
should  command  me  to  do  something  wrong ;  then  I  should 
be  bound  to  obey  my  father,  and  also  bound  not  to  do  what 
is  wrong.  Now  I  cannot  understand  what  I  ought  to  do  in 
such  a  case." 

Thus  he  goes  on.  Instead  of  returning  immediately  to 
the  right  path,  becoming  a  dutiful  son  and  a  docile  pupil  at 
once,  in  the  thousand  plain  cases  which  are  every  day  occur- 
ring, he  looks  every  way  in  search  of  difficulties  with  which 
he  hopes  to  perplex  his  teacher  and  excuse  his  neglect  of 
duty. 


126  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

Speculating  inquirer,  are  you  not  doing  the  same  ?  When 
it  is  most  plainly  your  duty  to  begin  to  love  God  and  serve 
him  at  once  hi  the  thousand  plain  instances  which  occur 
daily,  instead  of  doing  it  with  all  your  heart,  trusting  in  God 
that  he  will  do  right,  do  you  not  search  through  the  whole 
administration  of  his  government  for  fancied  difficulties — ■ 
difficulties  to  your  feeble  powers — feeble  originally,  but  ren- 
dered feebler  still  by  your  continuance  in  sin  ?  With  these 
difficulties  you  embarrass  yourself,  and  strive  to  perplex  your 
minister,  or  your  Sabbath-school  teacher,  or  your  parent,  and 
thus  find  a  momentary  respite  from  the  reproaches  of  a 
wounded  spirit  by  carrying  the  war  away  from  your  own  con- 
science, which  is  the  proper  field,  into  your  pastor's  or  your 
parent's  intellect.  While  the  argument  is  going  on  here, 
your  sense  of  guilt  subsides,  conscience  is  seared,  and  you 
fall  back  to  coldness  and  hardness  of  heart.  Now,  why  will 
you  thus  waste  your  time  and  your  moral  strength  on  ques- 
tions hi  regard  to  which  you  have  no  responsibility,  instead 
of  walking  in  the  plain  path  of  duty  which  lies  open  before 
you? 

2.  Useless  perplexities  of  a  Christian.  In  bringing  up 
to  view  so  plainly  the  insuperable  difficulties  connected  with 
religious  truth,  I  have  been  hoping  to  divert  the  minds  of 
Christians  from  being  perplexed  and  embarrassed  by  them. 
Once  make  up  your  mind,  fully  and  cordially,  that  there  are 
depths  which  the  sounding-line  of  your  intellect  will  not 
reach,  and  you  will  repose  in  the  conviction  that  you  do  not 
and  cannot  now  know,  with  a  peace  of  mind  which  you  can- 
not hi  any  other  way  secure.  How  many  persons  perplex 
themselves  again  and  again,  and  go  on  perplexing  themselves 
all  through  life,  in  fruitless  endeavors  to  understand  thor- 
oughly the  precise  and  exact  relation  which  Jesus  Christ 
bears  to  the  Father.  The  Bible  gives  us  clearly,  and  in 
simple  and  definite  language,  all  about  the  Saviour  which  it 
is  of  practical  importance  for  us  to  know.     The  Word  WW 


DIFFICULTIES  IN  RELIGION.  1£T 

God,  and  the  "Word  became  JlesJi,  or  man.  Now  just  be 
willing  to  stop  here.  "  But  no,"  says  some  one  who  loves 
his  Saviour3  and  wishes  to  understand  his  character,  "  I  want 
to  have  clear  ideas  on  this  subject ;  I  want  to  know  pre- 
cisely what  relation  he  sustained  to  the  Father  before  he 
became  man.  Was  he  in  all  respects  identical ;  or  was  he 
a  different  being,  or  a  different  person  ;  and  what  is  the  dif- 
ference between  a  person  and  a  being  ?  When  he  became 
man,  I  want  to  know  precisely  how  the  two  natures  came 
together." 

You  want  to  know ;  but  how  will  you  ascertain  ? 
Does  the  Bible  tell  you  ?  It  tells  you  that  your  Saviour 
was  God,  and  that  he  became  man.  If  you  rest  upon  the 
Bible,  you  must  rest  here.  Will  you  trust  to  your  own  spec- 
ulations ?  Will  you  build  up  inferences  upon  what  the  Bible 
states,  and  think,  if  you  are  cautious  in  your  reasoning,  you 
can  be  safe  in  your  conclusions  ?  You  cannot  be  safe  in  your 
conclusions.  No  mind  can  be  trusted  a  moment  to  draw 
conclusions  even  from  well  established  premises  on  a  subject 
which  it  does  not  fully  grasp. 

If  you  doubt  this,  just  make  the  following  experiment. 
Undertake  to  teach  the  elements  of  geometry  to  a  class  of 
intelligent  young  people ;  and  as  they  go  on  from  truth  to 
truth,  lead  them  into  conversation,  induce  them  to  apply  the 
active  energies  of  their  minds  to  the  subject,  in  reasoning 
themselves  from  the  truths  which  their  text-book  explains, 
and  you  will  soon  be  convinced  how  far  the  human  mind 
can  be  trusted  in  its  inferences  on  a  subject  which  is  beyond 
its  grasp.  Your  pupils  will  bring  you  apparent  contradic- 
tions, arising,  as  they  think  they  can  show,  from  the  truths 
established;  and  will  demonstrate,  most  satisfactorily  to 
themselves,  the  most  absurd  propositions.  In  one  case,  an 
intelligent  scholar  in  a  class  in  college  attempted  to  demon- 
strate the  absurdity  of  the  famous  "Forty-seventh."  He 
drew  his  diagram,  and  wrote  out  his  demonstration,  and 


]28  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

showed  it  to  his  class  ;  and  it  was  long  before  any  of  them 
could  detect  the  fallacy.  The  mathematical  reader  will 
understand  this,  and  all  may  understand,  that,  in  this  case, 
the  pupil  made  out  a  chain  of  reasoning  perfectly  satisfac- 
tory to  his  own  mind,  which  however  led  to  absurdity  and 
falsehood. 

You  say,  perhaps,  "  Well,  this  was  because  he  had  just 
begun  the  study  ;  he  knew  scarcely  any  thing  about  it.  Such 
mistakes  would  only  be  made  by  the  merest  beginners." 

That  is  exactly  what  I  wish  you  to  say ;  and  to  admit 
the  same  thing  in  regard  to  ourselves,  as  students  of  religious 
truth.  "We  are  mere  beginners;  we  know  almost  nothing 
of  such  subjects  as  God,  eternity,  and  the  constitution  of 
mind.  The  moment,  therefore,  we  leave  the  plain  proposi- 
tions of  the  Bible,  which  are  all  that  are  necessary  for  us  to 
understand,  and  go  to  draiving  inferences,  we  involve  our- 
selves in  absurdity  and  falsehood,  no  matter  how  directly 
and  inevitably  our  inferences  seem  to  follow.  Whenever  I 
hear  a  man  attempting  to  prove,  from  the  nature  of  the 
case,  that  the  Word  could  not  have  been  God,  and  after- 
wards have  become  flesh,  or  that  God  cannot  reign  in  the 
heart,  as  the  Bible  says  he  does,  and  yet  leave  man  free  and 
accountable,  I  always  think  of  the  college  sophomore  en- 
deavoring by  his  own  blundering  reasoning  to  upset  the  prop- 
osition of  Pythagoras. 

These  subjects,  which  are  too  difficult  in  their  very  nature 
for  our  powers,  are  the  source  of  very  many  of  the  unhappy 
controversies  which  agitate  the  church.  The  mind  is  not 
capable  of  grasping  fully  the  whole  truth.  Each  side  seize: 
a  part,  and  building  its  own  inferences  upon  these  partia- 
piemises,  they  soon  find  that  their  own  opinions  come  into 
collision  with  those  of  their  neighbors. 

Moralists  tell  the  following  story,  which  very  happily 
illustrates  this  species  of  controversy.  In  the  days  of  knight- 
errantry,  when  individual  adventurers  rode  about  the  world, 


DIFFICULTIES  IN  RELIGION.  12S 

seeking  employment  in  their  profession,  which  was  that  of 
the  sword,  two  strong  and  warlike  knights,  coming  from 
opposite  directions,  met  each  other  at  a  place  where  a  statue 
was  erected.  On  the  arm  of  the  statue  was  a  shield,  one 
side  of  which  was  of  iron,  the  other  of  brass  ;  and  as  our 
two  heroes  reined  up  their  steeds,  the  statue  was  upon  the 
side  of  the  road  between  them,  in  such  a  manner  that  the 
shield  presented  its  surface  of  brass  to  the  one,  and  of  iron 
to  the  other.  They  immediately  fell  into  conversation  in 
regard  to  the  structure  before  them,  when  one,  incidentally 
alluding  to  the  iron  shield,  the  other  corrected  him,  by 
remarking  that  it  was  of  b?~ass.  The  knight  upon  the  iron 
side  of  course  did  not  receive  the  correction  :  he  maintained 
that  he  was  right ;  and,  after  carrying  on  the  controversy 
for  a  short  time  by  harsh  language,  they  gradually  grew 
angry,  and  soon  drew  their  swords.  A  long  and  furious 
combat  ensued ;  and  when  at  last  both  were  exhausted, 
unhorsed,  and  lying  wounded  upon  the  ground,  they  found 
that  the  whole  cause  of  their  trouble  was,  that  they  could 
not  see  both  sides  of  a  shield  at  a  time. 

Now,  religious  truth  is  sometimes  such  a  shield,  ivith 

various  aspects,  and  the  human  mind  cannot  clearly  see  all 

at  a  time.     Two  Christian  knights,  clad  in  strong  armor, 

come  up  to  some  such  subject  as  moral  agency,  and  view  it 

from  opposite  stations.     One  looks  at  the  power  which  man 

has   over   his  heart,  and    laying  his  foundation  there,   he 

builds  up  his  theory  upon  that  alone.     Another  looks  upon 

the  divine  power  in  the  human  heart,  and  laying  his  own 

separate  foundation,   builds   up   his   theory.     The   human 

nind  is  incapable,  in  fact,  of  grasping  the  subject — of  under 

standing  how  man  can  be  free  and  accountable,  and  yet  be 

so  much  under  the  control  of  God  as  the  Bible  represents. 

Our  Christian  soldiers,  however,  do  not  consider  this.     Each 

takes  his  own  view,  and  carries  it  out  so  far  as  to  interfere 

with  that  of  the*  other.     They  converse  about  it ;  they  talk 

6* 


130  THE    rOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

more  and  more  warmly ;  then  a  long  controversy  ensues  :  if 
they  have  influence  over  others,  their  dispute  agitates  the 
church,  and  divides  brethren  from  brethren.  And  why? 
"Why,  just  because  our  Creator  has  so  formed  us  that  we 
cannot,  from  one  point  of  view,  see  both  sides  of  the  shield 
at  the  same  time.  The  combatants,  after  a  long  battle,  are 
both  unhorsed  and  wounded  ;  their  usefulness  and  their 
Christian  character  is  injured  or  destroyed. 

Now,  what  is  the  true  course  for  us  to  take  in  regard  to 
such  a  subject  ?  Simply  this.  Look  at  our  dependence  on 
God  for  a  change  of  heart  and  for  the  exercise  of  right  feel- 
ing, just  as  the  Bible  presents  this  subject,  and  go  cordially 
and  fully  just  as  far  as  the  Bible  goes,  which  is  a  great  way. 
Fix  in  your  heart  that  feeling  of  dependence  and  humility 
which  this  view  is  calculated  to  give.  Then  look  at  the 
other  aspect  of  this  subject,  the  active  power  of  man,  and 
go  here  just  as  far  as  the  Bible  goes,  and  carefully  learn  the 
lesson  of  diligence  which  it  teaches.  Suppose  you  cannot 
find  where  the  two  come  together,  be  willing  to  be  ignorant 
of  a  theory  which  God  has  not  revealed. 

It  has  been  my  design,  in  presenting  this  subject,  to  con- 
vince Christians  that  thev  cannot  understand  every  thing 
connected  with  Christian  theology,  and  to  try  to  induce 
them  to  repose  willingly  and  peacefully  in  a  sense  of  igno- 
rance fully  realized  and  frankly  acknowledged. 

3.  Difficulties  of  children.  I  have  discussed  this  sub- 
ject too  with  direct  reference  to  children,  for  the  sake  of 
1  r\ing  to  guard  you  against  two  faults.  One  is,  coining  to 
your  parent?  or  teachers  with  questions,  and  expecting  that 
they  can  in  all  cases  give  a  satisfactory  answer.  They 
cannot.  They  do  not  know.  The  wisest  parent,  the  high- 
est intellect,  is  incapable  of  answering  the  questions  which 
the  youngest  child  can  ask  in  regard  to  the  truths  of  Chris- 
tianity. Do  not  expect  it,  then.  You  may  ask  questions 
freely,  but  when  the  answers  are  not  perfectly  satisfactory 


DIFFICULTIES  IN   RELIGION.  131 

to  you,  consider  the  subject  as  beyond  the  grasp  of  your 
present  powers.  Be  satisfied  if  you  can  understand  the 
principles  of  duty,  and  spend  your  moral  strength  in  en- 
deavoring to  be  as  faithful  as  possible  there. 

There  is  one  other  suggestion  which  I  wish  to  make  to 
you.  When  you  carry  questions  or  difficulties  of  any  kind 
to  your  parents  or  teachers,  be  very  careful  to  be  actuated 
by  a  sincere  desire  to  learn,  instead  of  coming  as  young 
persons  very  often  do,  with  a  secret  desire  to  display  their 
own  acuteness  and  discrimination  hi  seeing  the  difficulty. 
How  often  have  young  persons  brought  questions  to  me, 
when  it  has  been  perfectly  evident  that  their  whole  object 
was,  not  to  be  taught,  but  to  show  me  their  own  shrewdness 
and  dexterity.  They  listen  in  such  cases  to  what  I  say, 
not  to  be  taught  by  it,  but  to  think  what  they  can  reply  to 
it,  and  bring  objection  upon  objection  with  a  spirit  which 
refuses  to  be  satisfied.  Be  careful  to  avoid  this.  Ask  for 
the  sake  of  learning.  Listen  with  a  predisposition  to  be 
satisfied  with  the  answer,  and  never  enter  into  argument, 
and  dispute  with  your  parent,  or  your  teacher,  with  a  view 
to  show  your  dexterity.  If  you  have  this  spirit  and  exercise 
it,  an  intelligent  parent  will  always  detect  it. 

4.  Difficulties  of  parents  and  teachers.  I  wish  to  make 
tins  discussion  the  means  of  helping  parents  and  teachers, 
and  older  brothers  and  sisters,  out  of  one  of  their  most 
common  difficulties — I  mean,  that  of  answering  questions 
brought  to  them  by  the  young.  Learn  to  say,  "  I  do  not 
know."  If  you  really  will  learn  to  say  this  frankly  and 
openly,  it  will  help  you  out  of  a  great  many  troubles. 

You  are  a  Sabbath-school  teacher,  I  will  imagine.  A 
bright-looking  boy,  whose  vanity  has  been  fanned  by  flat- 
tery, says  to  you  before  his  class, 

"  There  is  one  thing  in  the  lesson  I  do  not  understand. 
It  says  God  made  the  earth  first,  and  afterwards  the  sun. 
Now,  the  sun  stands  still,  and  the  earth  and  all  the  planets 


132  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

move  round  it.  It  seems  to  me,  therefore,  that  he  would 
have  been  more  likely  to  have  created  the  sun  first,  for 
that  is  the  largest  and  is  in  the  middle,  and  afterwards  the 
planets." 

As  he  says  this,  you  see  a  half  smile  of  self-complacency 
jpon  his  countenance  as  he  looks  round  upon  his  classmates 
to  observe  how  they  receive  this  astonishing  display  of  youth- 
ful acumen.  If  now  you  attempt  any  explanation,  he  does 
not  follow  you  with  any  desire  to  have  the  difficulty  removed. 
He  either  is  absorbed  in  thinking  how  shrewdly  he  dis- 
covered and  expressed  the  difficulty,  or  else,  if  he  listens  to 
your  reply,  it  is  to  find  something  in  it  upon  which  he  can 
hang  a  new  question,  or  prolong  the  difficulty.  He  feels  a 
sort  of  pride  in  not  having  his  question  easily  answered. 
He  cannot  be  instructed  while  in  this  state  of  mind. 

"  "What,  then,  would  you  say  to  a  boy  in  such  a  case  ?' 
you  will  ask. 

I  would  say  this  to  him  :  "I  do  not  understand  that  very 
well  myself.  I  know  nothing  about  the  creation  but  what 
that  chapter  tells  me.  You  can  think  about  it,  and  perhaps 
some  explanation  will  occur  to  you.  In  the  mean  time  it 
is  not  very  necessary  for.  us  to  know.  It  is  not  necessary 
for  you  to  understand  exactly  how  God  made  the  world,  in 
order  to  enable  you  to  be  a  good  boy  this  week." 

And  thus  universally  I  would  inculcate  the  importance 
of  a  humble,  docile  spirit,  which  will  disarm  every  theoreti- 
cal difficulty  of  its  power  to  perplex  us,  or  to  disturb  our 
peace. 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  133 


CHAPTER   VII. 

EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY. 

*  G-od,  who  at  sundry  times  and  in  divers  manners  spake  in  time  past  unto 
the  fathers  by  the  prophets,  hath  in  these  last  days  spoken  unto  us  by 
his  Son." 

The  first  inquiry  which  meets  us,  in  entering  upon  the 
consideration  of  this  subject,  is,  "What  sort  of  evidence  are 
we  to  expect  ?"  The  only  proper  answer  is,  that  sort  of 
evidence  which  men  require  to  produce  conviction  and  to 
control  the  conduct  in  other  cases.  The  human  mind  is  so 
constituted,  that  men  are  governed  by  a  certain  kind  and 
degree  of  evidence  in  all  the  concerns  of  life — a  kind  and  a 
degree  which  are  adapted  to  the  circumstances  in  which  we 
are  placed  here.  This  evidence,  however,  almost  always 
falls  very  far  short  of  demonstration,  or  absolute  certainty. 
Still,  it  is  enough  to  control  the  conduct.  By  the  influence 
of  it,  a  man  will  embark  in  the  most  momentous  enterprises, 
and  he  is  often  induced  by  it  to  abandon  his  most  favorite 
plans.  Still,  it  is  very  far  short  of  demonstration,  or  absolute 
certainty.  For  example,  a  merchant  receives  in  his  count- 
ing-room a  newspaper  which  marks  the  prices  of  some  species 
of  goods  at  a  foreign  port  as  very  high.  He  immediately 
determines  to  purchase  a  quantity,  and  to  send  a  cargo  there  ; 
but  suppose,  as  he  is  making  arrangements  for  this  purpose, 
his  clerk  should  say  to  him,  "  Perhaps  this  information  may 
not  be  correct.  The  correspondent  of  the  editor  may  have 
made  a  false  statement  for  some  fraudulent  purpose,  or  the 
communication  may  have  been  forged  ;  or  some  evil-minded 
person  having  the  article  in  question  for  sale,  may  have  con- 
trived by  stealth  to  alter  the  types,  so  as  to  cause  the  paper 
to  make  a  false  report,  at  least  in  some  of  the  copies." 

Now  in  such  a  case  would  the  merchant  be  influenced 
in  the  slightest  degree  by  such  a  sceptical  spirit  as  this  ? 


134  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

Would  he  attempt  to  reply  to  these  suppositions,  and  to  show 
that  the  channel  of  communication  between  the  distant  port 
and  his  own  counting-room  could  not  have  been  broken  in 
upon  by  fraud  somewhere  in  its  course,  so  as  to  bring  a  false 
statement  to  him  ?  He  could  not  show  this.  His  only  reply 
must  be,  if  he  should  reply  at  all,  "  The  evidence  of  this 
printed  sheet  is  not  perfect  demonstration,  but  it  is  just  such 
evidence  in  kind  and  degree  as  I  act  upon  in  all  my  business ; 
and  it  is  enough.  Were  I  to  pause  with  the  spirit  of  your 
present  objections,  and  refuse  to  act  whenever  such  doubts 
as  those  you  have  presented  might  be  entertained,  I  might 
close  my  business  at  once,  and  spend  life  in  inaction.  I 
could  not,  in  one  case  in  ten  thousand,  get  the  evidence 
which  would  satisfy  such  a  spirit." 

Again :  you  are  a  parent,  I  suppose ;  you  have  a  son 
travelling  at  a  distance  from  home,  and  you  receive  some 
day  a  letter  from  the  post-office  in  a  strange  handwriting, 
and  signed  by  a  name  you  have  never  heard,  informing  you 
that  your  son  has  been  taken  sick  at  one  of  the  villages  on 
his  route,  and  that  he  is  lying  dangerously  ill  at  the  house 
of  the  writer,  and  has  requested  that  Ins  father  might  be 
informed  of  his  condition,  and  urged  to  come  and  see  him 
before  he  dies. 

Where  now  is  the  father  who,  in  such  a  case,  would  say 
to  himself,  "  Stop,  this  may  be  a  deception ;  some  one  may 
have  forged  this  letter  to  impose  upon  me.  Before  I  take 
this  journey,  I  must  write  to  some  responsible  man  in  that 
village  to  ascertain  the  facts." 

No  ;  instead  of  looking  with  suspicion  upon  the  letter, 
scrutinizing  it  carefully  to  find  marks  of  counterfeiting,  he 
would  not  even  read  it  a  second  time.  As  soon  as  he  had 
caught  a  glimpse  of  its  contents,  he  would  throw  it  hastily 
aside,  and  urging  the  arrangements  for  his  departure  to  the 
utmost,  he  would  hasten  away,  saying,  "  Let  me  go  as  soon 
ible  to  nr. 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  135 

I  will  state  one  more  case,  though  perhaps  it  is  so  evi- 
dent, upon  a  moment's  reflection,  that  men  do  not  wait  for 
perfect  certainty  in  the  evidence  upon  which  they  act,  that 
I  have  already  stated  too  many. 

Your  child  is  sick,  and  as  he  lies  tossing  in  a  burning 
fever  on  his  bed,  the  physician  comes  in  to  visit  him.  He 
looks  for  a  few  minutes  at  the  patient,  examines  the  symp- 
toms, and  then  hastily  writes  an  almost  illegible  prescription, 
whose  irregular  and  abbreviated  characters  are  entirely  un- 
intelligible to  all  but  professional  eyes.  You  give  this  pre- 
scription to  a  messenger — perhaps  to  some  one  whom  you 
do  not  know — and  he  carries  it  to  the  apothecary,  who,  from 
the  indiscriminate  multitude  of  jars  and  drawers  and  boxes, 
filled  with  every  powerful  medicine  and  corroding  acid  and 
deadly  poison,  selects  a  little  here  and  a  little  there,  with 
which,  talking  perhaps  all  the  time  to  those  around  him,  he 
compounds  a  remedy  for  your  son.  The  messenger  brings 
it  to  the  sick  chamber,  and  as  he  puts  it  into  your  hands,  do 
you  think  of  stopping  to  consider  the  possibility  of  a  mistake  ? 
How  easily  might  the  physician,  by  substituting  one  barba- 
rous Lathi  name  for  another,  or  by  making  one  little  charac- 
ter too  few  or  too  many,  have  so  altered  the  ingredients,  or 
the  proportions  of  the  mixture,  as  to  convert  that  which  was 
intended  to  be  a  remedy  to  an  active  and  fatal  poison.  How 
easily  might  the  apothecary,  by  using  the  wrong  weight,  or 
mistaking  one  white  powder  for  another  precisely  similar  in 
appearance,  or  by  giving  your  messenger  the  parcel  intended 
for  another  customer,  send  you,  not  a  remedy  which  would 
allay  the  fever  and  bring  repose  to  the  restless  child,  but  an  irri- 
tating stimulus,  winch  should  urge  on  to  double  fury  the  rag- 
ing of  the  disease,  or  terminate  it  at  once  by  sudden  death. 

How  possible  are  these ;  but  who  stops  to  consider  them  ? 
How  absurd  would  it  be  to  consider  them.  You  administer 
the  remedy  with  unhesitating  confidence,  and  in  a  few  days 
the  returning  health  of  your  child  shows  that  it  is  wise  for 


136  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

you  to  act,  even  in  cases  of  life  and  death,  on  reasonable  evi- 
dence, without  waiting  for  the  absolute  certainty  of  moral 
demonstration 

Now  this  is  exactly  the  case  with  the  subject  of  the 
Christian  religion.  It  comes  purporting  to  be  a  message 
from  heaven,  and  it  brings  with  it  just  such  a  kind  of  evi- 
dence as  men  act  upon  in  all  their  other  concerns.  The 
evidence  is  abundant  and  satisfactory  ;  at  the  same  time, 
however,  any  one  who  dislikes  the  truths  or  the  requirements 
of  this  gospel  may  easily,  like  the  sceptical  clerk  in  the  case 
above-mentioned,  make  objections  and  difficulties  innumera- 
ble. A  man  may  be  an  infidel  if  he  pleases.  There  is  no 
such  irresistible  weight  of  argument  that  the  mind  is  abso- 
lutely forced  to  admit  it,  as  it  is  to  believe  that  two  and 
three  make  five.  In  regard  to  this  latter  truth,  such  is  the 
nature  of  the  human  mind,  that  there  is  not,  and  there  can- 
not be  an  individual  who  can  doubt  it.  In  regard  to  Chris- 
tianity, however,  as  with  all  other  truths  of  a  moral  nature 
which  regulate  the  moral  conduct  of  mankind,  there  is  no 
such  irresistible  evidence.  The  light  is  clear,  if  a  man  is 
willing  to  see ;  but  it  is  not  so  vividly  intense  as  to  force 
itself  through  his  eyelids,  if  he  chooses  to  close  them.  Any 
one  may  walk  in  darkness  if  he  will. 

The  evidences  of  Christianity  are  usually  considered  a3 
of  two  kinds — historical  and  internal.  There  may  properly 
be  added  a  third,  which  I  shall  call  experimental  These 
three  kinds  are  entirelv  distinct  in  their  nature. 

1.  If  we  look  back  upon  the  history  of  Christianity,  we 
find  it  was  introduced  into  the  world  under  very  remarkable 
circumstances.  Miracles  were  performed,  and  future  events 
foretold,  in  attestation  of  its  divine  origin,  and  the  founder 
was  restored  to  life  after  being  crucified  by  his  enemies. 
These,  with  the  various  circumstances  connected  with  them, 
constitute  the  historical  evidence  of  Christianity. 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  137 

2.  If  now  we  examine  the  book  itself,  its  truths,  its  doc- 
trines, its  spirit,  we  find  that  it  is  exactly  such  in  its  nature 
and  tendency  as  we  should  expect  a  message  from  Jeho- 
vah to  such  beings  as  we,  would  be.  This  is  the  interned 
evidence. 

3.  And  if  we  look  upon  the  effects  which  the  Bible  pro-  . 
duces  all  around  us  upon  the  guilt  and  misery  of  society, 
wherever  it  is  faithfully  and  properly  applied,  we  find  it 
efficient  for  the  purposes  for  which  it  was  sent.  It  comes 
to  cure  the  diseases  of  sin — and  it  does  cure  them.  It  is 
intended  to  lead  men  to  abandon  vice  and  crime,  and  to 
bring  them  to  God — and  it  does  bring  them  by  hundreds 
and  thousands.  If  we  make  the  experiment  with  it,  we  find 
that  it  succeeds  in  accomplishing  its  objects.  This  we  may 
call  the  experimental  evidence. 

These  three  kinds  of  evidence  are  so  entirely  distinct  in 
their  nature,  that  they  apply  to  other  subjects.  You  have  oj^kc 
a  substance  which  you  suppose  is  phosphorus.  For  what 
reason  ?  Why,  in  the  first  place,  a  boy  in  whom  you  place 
confidence  brought  it  for  you  from  the  chemist's,  who  said 
it  was  phosphorus.  This  is  the  historical  evidence  :  it  relates 
to  the  history  of  the  article  before  it  came  into  your  pos- 
session. In  the  second  place,  you  examine  it,  and  it  looks 
like  phosphorus.  Its  color,  consistence,  and  form,  all  agree. 
This  is  internal  evidence :  it  results  from  internal  examina 
tion.  In  the  third  place,  you  try  it.  It  burns  with  a  most 
bright  and  vivid  flame.  This  last  may  be  called  experi- 
mental evidence  ;  and  it  ought  to  be  noticed,  that  this  last 
is  the  best  of  the  three.  No  matter  what  grounds  of  doubt 
and  hesitation  there  may  be  in  regard  to  the  first  and  second 
kinds  of  evidence,  if  the  article  simply  proves  its  properties 
on  trial.  If  any  one  should  say  to  you,  "  I  suspect  your 
messenger  was  not  honest ;"  or,  "  This  is  too  dark  or  too 
hard  to  be  phosphorus ;"  your  reply  would  be,  "  Sir,  there 
can  be  no  possible  doubtkof  it.     Just  see  how  it  burns  " 


138  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

Just  so  with  the  evidences  of  Christianity.  It  is  inter- 
esting to  look  into  the  historical  evidences  that  it  is  a  reve- 
lation from  heaven,  and  to  contemplate  also  the  internal 
indications  of  its  origin ;  but  after  all,  the  great  evidence 
which  is  most  palpable,  most  convincing  to  the  human 
.mind,  and  on  which  it  is  best  for  Christians  generally,  and 
especially  young  Christians,  chiefly  to  rely,  is  the  experi- 
mental— the  effects  of  the  gospel,  under  the  agency  of  the 
Holy  Spirit,  in  changing  the  character  and  saving  from  suf- 
fering and  sin. 

I.  HISTORICAL  EVIDENCE. 

If  the  Creator  should  intend  to  send  a  communication  of 
his  will  to  his  creatures,  we  might  have  supposed  that  he 
would,  at  the  time  of  his  making  it,  accompany  the  revela- 
s*  tion  with  something  or  other  which  should  be  a  proof  that 
it  really  came  from  him.  Monarchs  have  always  had  some 
way  of  authenticating  their  communications  with  their  sub- 
jects, or  with  distant  officers.  This  is  the  origin  of  the  use 
of  seals.  The  monarch  at  home  possesses  a  seal  of  a  peculiar 
character.  When  he  sends  any  communication  to  a  distance, 
he  impresses  this  seal  upon  the  wax  connected  with  the 
parchment  upon  which  the  letter  is  written.  This  gives  it 
authority.  Ko  one  else  possessing  such  a  seal,  it  is  plain 
that  no  one  can  give  the  impression  of  it,  and  a  seal  of  this 
kind  is  very  difficult  to  be  counterfeited.  Various  other  de 
vices  have  been  resorted  to  by  persons  in  authority  to  authen- 
ticate their  communications. 

In  the  same  manner  it  is  reasonable  to  expect  that  Jeho- 
vah, when  he  sends  a  message  to  men,  will  have  some  way 
of  convincing  us  that  it  really  comes  from  him.  There  are 
so  many  bad  men  in  the  world  who  are  willing  to  deceive 
mankind,  that  we  could  not  possibly  tell,  when  a  pretended 
revelation  comes  to  us,  whether  it  was  really  a  revelation 
from  heaven  or  a  design  of  wicked  men,  unless  God  should 


EVIDENCES  OF   CHRISTIANITY.  139 

set  some  marks  upon  it,  or  accompany  it  with  some  indica- 
tions which  bad  men  could  not  imitate. 

The  Bible  professes  to  have  been  accompanied  by  such 
marks.  They  are  the  power  of  working  miracles  and  fore- 
telling future  events,  possessed  by  those  who  brought  the 
various  messages  it  contains.  It  is  plain  that  man,  without 
divine  assistance,  could  have  had  no  such  power.  If  this 
power  then  really  accompanied  those  who  were  the  instru- 
ments of  introducing  the  Christian  religion  into  the  world, 
we  may  safely  conclude  that  it  was  given  them  by  God,  and 
as  he  would  never  give  this  power  to  sanction  imposture,  the 
message  brought  must  be  from  him. 

The  way,  then,  to  ascertain  whether  these  miracles  were 
actually  performed,  is  like  that  of  ascertaining  all  other  mat- 
ters of  fact,  by  calling  upon  those  who  witnessed  them  for 
their  testimony. 

The  manner  in  which  these  witnesses  are  to  be  exam- 
ined, is  similar  to  that  pursued  in  ordinary  courts  of  justice. 
It  is  similar,  I  mean,  in  its  principles,  not  in  its  forms.  I 
know  of  nothing  which  shows  more  convincingly  the  satis- 
factory nature  of  this  evidence,  than  a  comparison  of  it  with 
that  usually  relied  on  in  courts  of  justice.  In  order,  then,  to 
exhibit  the  former  distinctly,  I  shall  minutely  describe  the 
course  pursued,  and  to  make  my  description  more  definite,  I 
shall  select  a  particular  case. 

I  was  once  walking  in  the  streets  of  a  large  city,  in  which 
I  was  a  stranger,  looking  around  for  some  striking  exhibi- 
tions of  human  character  or  efforts,  when  I  saw  several  per- 
sons, of  apparently  low  rank  in  life,  standing  before  the  door 
of  what  was  apparently  some  public  building.  I  thought  it 
was  probably  a  court-house,  and  that  these  were  the  men 
who  had  been  called  as  witnesses,  and  that  they  were  wait- 
ing for  their  turn  to  testify.  As  courts  are  always  open  to 
the  public,  I  concluded  to  go  in  and  hear  some  of  the  causes. 
I  walked  up  the  steps  and  entered  a  spacious  hall,  and  at  the 


140  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

foot  of  a  flight  of  stairs  saw  a  little  painted  sign,  saying  that 
the  court-room  was  above.  I  passed  up  and  pushed  open  the. 
light  baize  door,  which  admitted  me  to  the  room  itself. 

At  the  end  at  which  I  entered  there  were  two  rows  of 
seats,  one  row  on  each  side  of  an  aisle  which  led  up  through 
the  centre.  These  seats  seemed  to  be  for  spectators  ;  for 
those  on  one  side  were  nearly  filled  with  women,  and  those 
on  the  other  by  men.  I  advanced  up  the  aisle  until  I  nearly 
reached  the  centre  of  the  room,  and  then  took  my  seat 
among  the  spectators,  where  I  could  distinctly  hear  and  see 
all  that  passed.  Before  me,  at  the  farther  end  of  the  room, 
sat  the  judge,  in  a  sort  of  desk  on  an  elevated  platform,  and 
in  front  of  him  was  another  desk,  lower,  which  was  occupied 
by  the  clerk,  whose  business  it  was  to  make  a  record  of  all 
the  causes  that  were  tried.  There  was  an  area  in  front  of 
the  judge,  in  which  were  seats  for  the  various  lawyers  ;  and 
in  boxes  at  the  sides  were  seats  for  the  jury,  who  were  to 
hear  the  evidence,  and  decide  what  facts  were  proved.  On 
one  side  of  the  room  was  a  door  made  of  iron  grating,  with 
sharp  points  upon  the  top,  which  led,  I  supposed,  to  an  apart- 
ment where  the  prisoners  were  kept. 

Not  long  after  I  had  taken  my  seat,  the  clerk  said  that 
the  next  cause  was  the  trial  of  0 B for  housebreak- 
ing. The  judge  commanded  an  officer  to  bring  the  prisoner 
into  court.  The  officer  went  to  the  iron  door  I  have  de- 
scribed, unlocked  it,  and  brought  out  of  the  room  into  which 
it  opened,  a  prisoner  ;  he  looked  guilty  and  ashamed  ;  his 
face  was  pale — not  as  though  he  was  afraid,  but  as  if  his 
constitution  had  been  impaired  by  vice.  They  brought  him 
into  the  middle  of  the  room,  and  placed  him  in  a  sort  of  pew 
with  high  sides,  and  shut  him  in.  He  leaned  against  the 
front  of  it,  looked  at  the  judge,  and  began  to  /isten  to  his 
trial. 

The  clerk  read  the  accusation.  It  was,  that  he  had 
broken  open  an  unoccupied  house  once  or  twice,  and  taken 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  141 

from  it  articles  belonging  to  the  owner  of  the  house.  The 
judge  asked  him  if  he  pleaded  guilty,  or  not  guilty.  He 
said,  Not  guilty.  The  judge  then  asked  the  jury  at  the 
side  to  listen  to  the  evidence,  so  that  they  might  be  pre- 
pared to  decide  whether  this  man  did  break  open  the  house 
or  not. 

Men  not  accustomed  to  speak  in  public  assemblies,  could 
not  easily  give  their  testimony  in  such  a  case,  so  that  it  would 
be  fully  understood  on  all  the  important  points.  In  fact,  very 
few  know  fully  what  the  important  points  are.  Hence,  it  is 
necessary  that  there  should  be  lawyers  present,  who  can  ask 
questions,  and  thus  examine  the  witnesses  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  bring  out  fully  all  the  facts  in  the  case.  There  is  one 
lawyer  appointed  by  the  government,  whose  business  it  is 
to  bring  to  view  all  the  facts  which  indicate  the  prisoner's 
guilt ;  and  another  on  the  part  of  the  prisoner,  who  takes 
care  that  nothing  is  omitted  or  lost  sight  of  which  would  be 
in  his  favor.  "When  the  prisoner  has  not  procured  any  coun- 
sel, the  judge  appoints  some  one  for  him  ;  this  was  done  in 
the  case  before  us. 

The  first  witness  called  was  the  owner  of  the  house.  It 
is  necessary  that  each  witness  should  be,A  man  of  good  char- 
acter, and  that  he  should  testify  only  to  what  he  saw  or 
heard.  No  one  is  permitted  to  tell  what  some  one  else  told 
him  ;  for  stories  are  very  likely  to  be  altered  in  repetition ; 
so  that,  even  in  a  complicated  case,  each  man  goes  only  sc 
far  as  his  own  'personal  knowledge  extends.  And  in  order 
to  be  sure  that  the  jury  shall  have  his  own  story,  he  is 
obliged  to  come  personally  into  court,  and  tell  the  story  in 
presence  of  all.  The  owner  of  this  house  was  probably  a 
man  of  business ;  and  a  great  deal  of  valuable  time  would 
have  been  saved  if  he  had  been  permitted  to  write  down  his 
account  and  send  it  in.  But  no  ;  every  witness,  where  it  is 
possible,  must  actually  come  into  court  and  present  his  evi- 
dence with  his  own  voice.     This  remark  it  is  important  to 


142  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

remember,  as  the  principle  will  come  to  view  when  we  con- 
sider the  other  case. 

This  witness  testified,  that  he  owned  a  certain  house ; 
that  he  moved  out  of  it,  and  locked  it  up,  leaving  some  arti- 
cles in  an  upper  chamber ;  that  one  day  he  went  in  and 
found  that  the  house  had  been  entered,  I  believe  by  a  win- 
dow, and  that  the  chamber-door  had  been  broken  open,  and 
some  of  the  articles  taken  away.  He  said  that  he  then  em- 
ployed  a  watchman  to  sleep  in  the  house,  and  to  try  to  catch 
the  thief. 

Here  he  had  to  stop  ;  for,  although  he  knew  how  the 
watchman  succeeded,  he  was  not  permitted  to  tell,  for  he  did 
not  see  it.  Xo  man  testifies  except  to  what  he  has  seen  or 
heard. 

The  watchman  was  next  called.  The  lawyer  for  the 
government  asked  him, 

"  "Were  you  employed  by  the  owner  of  this  house  to  watch 
for  a  thief  in  it  ?" 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"  What  did  he  tell  you  when  he  engaged  you  ?" 

"  He  told  me  that  his  house  had  been  broken  open,  and 
he  wished  me  to  watch  for  the  thief." 

"Did  you  do  it?" 

"Yes,  sir." 

"  Well,  relate  to  the  jury  what  occurred  that  night." 

"I  watched  several  nights.  For  some  nights  nothing 
occurred.     All  was  quiet  till  morning." 

"  In  what  room  did  you  stay  ?" 

"  In  the  room  under  the  chamber  from  which  the  articles 
had  been  stolen." 

"  Well,  go  on  with  your  account." 

"  At  last,  on  the  fifteenth  of  June,  as  I  was  then  watch- 
ing, about  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  I  heard  a  noise. 
Some  one  was  coming  softly  up  stairs.  He  went  up  into 
the  room  over  my  head,  and  after  remaining  a  few  minutes 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  143 

there,  he  began  to  come  down.  I  immediately  went  out  into 
the  entry  and  seized  him.  and  took  him  to  the  watch-house. 
The  next  morning  he  was  put  in  prison." 

The  lawyer  then  pointed  to  the  prisoner  at  the  bar.  and 
asked  if  that  was  the  man.     The  witness  said  it  was. 

The  judge  then  asked  the  counsel  for  the  prisoner  if  he 
had  any  questions  to  ask,  and  he  did  ask  one  or  two,  but 
they  were  not  material.  The  jury  then  consulted  together, 
and  all  agreed  that  the  prisoner  was  proved  guilty  ;  and  the 
judge  ordered  him  to  be  sent  back  to  the  prison  till  he  should 
determine  what  punishment  must  be  assigned. 

This  is  substantially  the  way  in  which  all  trials  are  con- 
ducted. Three  or  four  points  are  considered  very  necessary  : 
first,  that  the  witnesses  should  be  of  good  character  ;  second, 
that  they  should  have  actually  witnessed  what  they  describe ; 
and  third,  that  the  precise  account  which  they  themselves 
give,  should  come  into  court.  These  points  the  judge  or  the 
lawyers  secure.  The  latter  they  obtain  by  having  the  wit- 
ness himself  always  come,  if  it  is  possible,  even  if  he  has  to 
leave  most  important  business  for  this  purpose.  If,  from  sick- 
ness or  any  other  similar  cause,  he  cannot  come,  his  testi- 
mony is  taken  down  in  writing  and  signed  by  himself,  and 
that  paper,  the  very  one  which  he  signed,  must  be  brought 
into  court  and  read  there.  This  is  called  a  deposition.  The 
second  point  is  secured  by  not  allowing  any  man  to  go  any 
farther  hi  his  testimony  than  he  himself  saw  or  heard.  So 
that  sometimes,  when  the  case  is  complicated,  a  very  large 
number  of  witnesses  are  called  before  the  whole  case  is  pre- 
sented to  the  jury.  The  first  point  they  secure  by  inquiring 
into  the  character  of  the  witnesses.  If  any  man  can  be 
proved  to  be  unworthy  of  credit,  his  testimony  is  set  aside. 

Now  all  these  points  must  be  looked  at  in  examining  the 
evidence  of  the  Christian  miracles.  I  alter  the  arrangement, 
however,  placing  them  now  in  the  order  in  which  it  is  most 
convenient  to  examine  them. 


144  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

1.  We  must  ascertain  that  we  have  the  exact  account 
given  by  the  witnesses  themselves. 

2.  We  must  ascertain  that  they  had  distinct  opportuni- 
ties to  witness  what  they  describe. 

3.  "VYe  must  have  evidence  that  they  are  credible;  that 
is,  that  they  are  honest  men,  and  that  their  word  can  be 
relied  upon. 

These  three  points  I  shall  examine  in  order  in  reference 
to  the  Christian  miracles.  The  witnesses  are  the  four  evan- 
gelists, Matthew,  Mark,  Luke,  John ;  and  the  first  inquiry, 
according  to  the  list  above  presented,  is  to  determine  whether 
we  have  exactly  the  account  which  they  themselves  give. 
Witnesses  are  commonly  called  into  court  to  tell  their  own 
story,  and  then  there  can  be  no  mistake.  If  that  is  impos- 
sible, as  I  remarked  above,  their  deposition  is  taken  with 
certain  forms,  and  the  very  paper  they  originally  signed  is 
brought  and  read  in  court.  But  neither  of  these  courses  can 
be  taken  here.  For,  in  the  first  place,  the  witnesses  have 
been  for  a  long  time  dead,  so  that  they  cannot  come  forward 
to  give  their  testimony  ;  and  though  they  did  write  a  full 
account  at  the  time,  yet  it  was  so  many  years  ago  that  no 
writing  could  remain  to  the  present  period.  Time  has  entire- 
ly destroyed  all  vestiges  of  the  writings  of  those  days. 

I  presume  all  my  readers  are  aware,  that  not  long  after 
the  time  of  our  Saviour  the  barbarians  from  the  north,  in 
innumerable  hordes,  began  to  pour  down  upon  the  Roman 
empire,  until  at  last  they  subverted  and  destroyed  it.  Very 
many  of  these  barbarians  became  nominal  Christians  and 
preserved  some  copies  of  the  Bible,  and  in  fact  they  saved 
many  extensive  and  valuable  libraries  of  manuscripts  in 
rolls — the  art  of  printing  not  being  then  known-r-but  they 
destroyed  most  of  the  institutions  and  the  accumulated  prop- 
erty of  civilized  life,  and  brought  a  long  period  of  ignorance 
and  semibarbarism,  called  the  "dark  ages,"  upon  the  world. 
After  some  time,  however,  there  began  to  be  in  various  parts 


EVIDENCES  OF   CHRISTIANITY.  145 

of  Europe  a  gradual  improvement.  The  monks  in  the  vari- 
ous convents  having  no  other  employment,  began  to  explore 
the  old  libraries  and  to  study  the  books.  They  made  them 
selves  acquainted  with  the  languages  in  which  they  were 
written,  and  when  the  art  of  printing  was  invented  they  pub- 
lished them.  In  consequence,  however,  of  the  immense  num- 
ber of  manuscripts  collected  in  some  of  the  libraries,  a  long 
time  elapsed  before  they  were  fully  explored,  and  even  now 
the  work  is  not  absolutely  completed.  New  writings  are 
occasionally  brought  to  light  and  published.  The  difficulty  of 
deciphering  such  old,  worn  out,  faded,  and  almost  illegible 
parchment  rolls,  is  very  great. 

A  great  deal  of  interest  was  felt  at  the  very  first  by  these 
explorers,  to  find  the  oldest  copies  of  the  Bible,  or  of  any 
parts  of  the  Bible.  They  wished  to  have  the  most  accurate 
and  authentic  copy  possible  ;  and  the  more  ancient  the  copy, 
the  more  probable  it  was  that  it  was  taken  directly  from 
the  original,  and  consequently  the  more  it  was  to  be  de- 
pended upon.  .  If  they  could  have  found  a  manuscript  which 
was  evidently  the  very  copy  originally  written  by  the  author 
himself,  it  would  have  been  considered  invaluable. 

The  number  of  manuscripts  of  the  whole  or  of  parts  of 
the  Hebrew  Bible  thus  found,  and  now  preserved  in  various 
libraries  of  Europe,  is  more  than  four  hundred  ;  and  of  the 
Greek  Testament,  not  far  from  one  hundred  and  fifty.  They 
are  scattered  all  over  Europe,  and  are  preserved  in  the 
libraries  with  great  care.  The  oldest  of  them,  however, 
was  written  several  hundred  years  after  the  death  of  Christ, 
so  that  we  now  cannot  ever  have  the  manuscripts  actually 
written  by  the  original  witnesses.  The  two  methods  usually 
relied  on,  therefore,  in  courts  of  justice,  for  being  sure  that 
the  actual  story  of  the  witness  himself  is  presented  in  court, 
fail  in  this  case.  "We  must  resort,  therefore,  to  another 
method  equally  certain,  but  different  in  form. 

The  evidence  relied  upon  to  prove  that  the  books  we 

Y.  Christian.  7 


146  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

have  now,  or  rather  the  ancient  manuscripts  in  the  libraries 
in  Europe  from,  which  they  are  translated,  are  really  the 
same  with  the  accounts  originally  written  by  the  witnesses 
themselves,  is  this  :  Immediately  after  they  were  written,  a 
great  many  other  Christian  writers,  very  much  interested  in 
these  accounts,  began  to  quote  them  in  their  own  letters 
and  books.  They  quoted  them  much  more  copiously  than 
it  is  customary  to  quote  now,  because  the  art  of  printing 
puts  every  important  book  within  the  reach  of  all  who  are 
interested  in  it.  Then,  the  original  accounts  were  only  in 
manuscript,  and  consequently  could  be  seen  and  read  only 
by  a  few.  These  few,  therefore,  in  their  writings  made 
frequent  and  copious  extracts  from  them  ;  and  these  extracts 
have  come  down  to  us  separately,  and  each  one  proves  that 
the  passage  it  contains,  which  is  hi  the  account  now,  was 
in  that  account  when  the  quotation  was  made. 

An  imaginary  instance  will  make  this  plain.  The  Vati- 
can manuscript,  as  it  is  called,  that  is,  a  very  ancient  man- 
uscript preserved  in  the  library  of  the  Vatican  at  Rome,  is 
supposed  to  have  been  written  about  four  hundred  years 
after  Christ.  It  contains,  we  will  suppose,  John's  gospel, 
just  as  we  have  it  now  in  our  Bibles.  This  proves,  that  if 
the  real  original  account  which  John  gave  was  altered  at 
all  after  he  wrote  it,  it  was  altered  before  that  time.  Now 
suppose  a  Christian  at  Antioch,  living  two  hundred  years 
before  the  Vatican  manuscript  was  written,  had  been  writ- 
ing a  book,  and  in  it  had  mentioned  John's  gospel,  and  had 
copied  out  a  whole  chapter.  This  book  he  leaves  at  Anti- 
och :  it  is  copied  there  again  and  again,  and  some  copies 
are  found  there  at  the  revival  of  learning  after  the  dark 
ages.  Here  we  have  one  chapter  proved  to  have  been  in 
John's  account  two  hundred  years  earlier  than  the  date 
of  the  Vatican  manuscript.  In  the  same  manner  another 
chapter  might  have  been  quoted  in  another  book  kept  at 
Alexandria,  another  at  Rome,  etc.     Now  the  fact  i*.  that 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  147 

these  quotations  have  been  so  numerous,  that  they  have 
formed  an  uninterrupted  succession  of  evidences,  beginning 
but  a  very  short  time  after  the  original  accounts  were  writ- 
ten, and  coming  down  to  modern  times.  Every  chapter  and 
verse  is  not  indeed  confirmed  in  this  way,  but  every  thing 
in  the  least  degree  important  is.  All  the  material  facts,  and 
every  particular  in  regard  to  which  there  could  be  any  neces- 
sity for  this  evidence,  are  furnished  with  it.  Learned  men 
have  taken  a  great  deal  of  pains  to  explore  and  collect  this 
mass  of  evidence  in  favor  of  the  genuineness  of  the  sacred 
books.  These  quotations  have  been  most  carefully  exam- 
ined and  republished  ;  so  that  all  who  are  inclined  to  go 
into  an  examination  of  them  can  do  so.  Dr.  Paley,  in  his 
Evidences  of  Christianity,  has  presented  enough  to  satisfy 
any  mind  of  sufficient  attainments  to  appreciate  such  an 
argument. 

I  say,  of  sufficient  attainments — for  there  are  very  few, 
excepting  professed  scholars,  who  can  have  time  to  go  fully 
enough  into  an  examination  of  this  subject  to  form  an  inde- 
pendent judgment.  I  have  not  attempted  in  the  above 
remarks  to  present  you  with  the  argument  itself,  but  only 
to  explain  the  nature  of  it.  As  I  remarked  before,  I  do  not 
think  the  historical  argument  is  calculated  to  come  with  so 
much  force  to  the  minds  of  Christians  generally,  as  one  of 
another  kind,  which  I  shall  presently  exhibit.  All  ought, 
however,  to  understand  its  nature. 

"We  may  consider,  then,  the  fact  of  these  almost  innu- 
merable quotations  from  the  writers  of  the  New  Testament, 
and  copies  and  translations  from  them,  forming  a  series 
which  commenced  soon  after  the  writings  first  appeared, 
and  continuing  in  uninterrupted  succession  down  to  the 
present  time,  as  abundant  evidence  that  the  story  ive  now 
have,  is  the  story  originally  given  by  the  witnesses  them- 
selves. This  evidence  does  satisfy  all  who  fully  examine  it 
And  this  is  the  first  point  in  the  investigation. 


US  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

But  the  question  will  arise  in  the  minds  of  many  of  my 
readers,  Why  is  it  necessary  to  prove  so  fully  and  formally 
such  a  point  as  this  ?  Why  is  it  necessary  to  show  so  care- 
fully that  these  are  precisely,  in  all  important  respects,  the 
very  accounts  originally  written  by  the  witnesses  them- 
selves ?  The  answer  is  this.  Unless  this  point  were  very 
carefully  and  fully  proved,  we  might  have  supposed  that 
the  prevailing  belief  of  the  truth  of  the  Christian  miracles, 
and  the  general  circulation  of  our  present  books,  might 
have  arisen  in  this  way.  Suppose  that,  eighteen  hundred 
years  ago,  a  good  man  named  Jesus  Christ  had  been  dis- 
satisfied with  the  prevailing  errors  and  superstitions,  and 
had  taught  a  purer  system  of  religious  and  moral  duty.  His 
followers  become  strongly  attached  to  him.  They  repeat 
to  one  another  his  instructions,  follow  him  from  place  to 
place,  and  soon  attract  the  attention  of  the  authorities  of  the 
country.  He  is  persecuted  by  his  enemies,  and  put  to  death. 
After  his  death,  his  disciples  make  greater  and  greater 
efforts  to  promote  his  principles.  They  relate,  with  some 
exaggeration,  the  incidents  of  his  life.  His  benevolence  and 
kindness  to  the  sick  and  to  the  afflicted  are  gradually,  as 
the  stories  are  repeated  again  and  again,  magnified  to  the 
exertion  of  miraculous  power.  One  extraordinary  narrative 
after  another  gradually  gains  credit  and  circulation.  No 
one  intends  to  deceive,  but  according  to  the  universal  ten- 
dency in  such  cases,  even  where  stories  that  strongly  inter- 
est the  feelings  are  circulated  among  good  men,  the  accounts 
gradually  and  insensibly  assume  a  marvellous  and  miracu- 
lous air,  and  after  a  time,  when  years  have  elapsed,  and  no 
method  of  ascertaining  the  truth  remains,  these  exaggerated 
and  false  stories  are  committed  to  writing,  and  these  writ- 
ings come  down  to  us.  This  supposition  might  very  plau- 
sibly have  been  made.  But  the  evidence  afforded  by  the 
series  of  quotations  I  have  above  described  cuts  it  off  alto- 
gether.    That  long  and  uninterrupted  series  carries  us  irre- 


EVIDENCES  OF   CHRISTIANITY.  149 

sistibly  back  to  the  very  time  when  the  events  occurred 
There  is  no  time  left  for  exaggeration  and  misrepresentation. 
We  prove  that  the  accounts  which  we  now  have  were 
written  on  the  spot — that  they  were  in  circulation,  and 
exposed  to  rigid  scrutiny  immediately  after  the  events 
themselves  took  place — and  we  are  thus  compelled  to  be- 
lieve that  the  original  records,  made  at  the  time,  have  been 
preserved  unaltered  to  the  present  day. 

"  Eut  does  this,"  you  will  ask,  "  prove  that  the  accounts 
are  true?"  Most  certainly  not.  We  have  not  yet  at- 
tempted to  prove  them  true.  We  have  not  yet  come  to 
the  examination  of  the  evidence  itself  &t  all.  The  original 
witnesses,  if  we  admit  that  these  accounts  were  written  by 
them,  may  have  been  mistaken,  or  they  may  have  been  false 
witnesses.  We  have  said  nothing  yet  on  these  points.  The 
reader  must  bear  in  mind  what' is  the  precise  point  now 
before  us.  It  is  simply  to  show  that  the  accounts  we  have 
now,  whatever  they  may  contain,  are  the  very  accounts 
ichich  the  ivitnesses  themselves  icrote.  The  depositions  are 
properly  authenticated ;  not,  indeed,  by  the  common  legal 
forms — seal  and  signature  and  witness — but  by  abundant 
evidence,  and  evidence  of  exactly  the  kind  which  is  always 
most  relied  on,  and  entirely  relied  on,  in  all  other  cases, 
where  the  examination  of  very  ancient  documents  comes 
up.  This  point  being  thus  settled,  we  are  now  prepared  to 
examine  the  evidence  itself,  in  reference  to  the  other  points 
I  have  mentioned.  As  it  is  very  desirable,  in  order  to  have 
clear  views  of  any  argument,  that  a  distinct  view  of  its 
parts  should  be  kept  in  mind,  the  reader  is  requested  to  look 
back  to  page  144,  for  an  enumeration  of  the  points  to  be 
examined,  and  he  will  recollect  that  we  have  yet  discussed 
only  the  first,  and  proceed  now  to  the  second. 

2.  We  must  ascertain  that  the  writers  of  these  accounts 
had  distinct  opportunities  to  witness  what  they  describe. 

Now,  in  regard  to  this,  their  own  testimony  is  to  be 


150  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

taken.  It  is  common  to  ask  witnesses  on  the  stand,  in  a 
court  of  justice,  about  the  opportunities  they  had  of  know- 
ing certainly,  or  the  possibility  that  they  might  be  mis- 
taken, and  they  give  their  own  account  of  the  situation  in 
which  they  were  placed.  This  account  is  admitted  and 
believed,  like  all  their  other  testimony,  unless  something 
appears  which  shows  that  the  witness  is  not  to,  be  trusted, 
and  then  all  his  statements  are  discredited  together. 

I  noticed  in  the  trial  above  described,  that  the  counsel 
for  the  prisoner  was  particular  on  this  point.  He  asked  the 
witness,  after  he  had  told  all  the  story  about  his  detecting 
the  man  in  the  chamber,  as  follows  : 

"  But  are  you  sure  that  that,"  pointing  to  the  prisoner, 
"was  the  man?" 

"Yes,  perfectly  sure.  I  could  not  be  mistaken,  for  I 
took  him  at  once  to  the  watch-house." 

This  was  decisive ;  it  proved  that  the  witness  had  a 
most  excellent  opportunity  to  know  what  he  described,  and 
that  there  was  no  possibility  of  mistake.  Suppose,  how- 
ever, that  the  thief  had  been  active  enough  to  have  run 
down  stairs  and  escaped,  allowing  the  witness  only  a  glimpse 
of  his  person,  and  the  next  day  the  witness  had  met  a  man 
in  the  street  whom  he  supposed  to  be  the  same,  and  had  pro- 
cured his  arrest  and  trial,  the  jury  would  in  tins  case  have 
placed  far  less  confidence  in  his  testimony,  even  if  they 
knew  that  he  was  a  very  honest  man  and  intended  to  tell 
the  truth.  The  difficulty  would  have  been  the  want  of  a 
full  and  unquestionable  opportunity  to  know  what  the  truth 
was. 

In  the  same  manner,  if  there  is  any  tiling  which  might 
operate  to  produce  delusion,  a  jury  would  receive  testimony 
with  great  hesitation.  For  example,  suppose  a  witness 
should  testify  that  he  saw  some  supernatural  appearance  in 
going  through  a  dark  wood  by  night.  Few  would  believe 
him,  however  honest  a  man  he  might  be,  on  account  of  the 


EVIDENCES  OF   CHRISTIANITY.  151 

great  danger  of  being  deceived  in  going  through  a  scene  full 
of  irregular  objects,  such  as  the  varieties  of  vegetation,  the 
broken  rocks,  the  whitened  trunks  of  decaying  trees,  and 
going  through  too  at  night,  when  all  forms  are  vague  and 
indeterminate,  and  easily  modified  by  the  imagination  or  the 
fears.  Again,  an  honest  man,  one  in  whose  word  I  place 
great  confidence,  may  tell  me  of  a  cure  for  rheumatism.  He 
says  he  has  tried  it,  and  it  always  does  great  good.  I  receive 
his  testimony  with  great  doubt,  because  he  cannot  probably, 
with  the  little  experience  he  has,  know  how  much  the  ben- 
efit he  experienced  was  owing  to  the  supposed  remedy,  and 
how  much  to  other  causes.  If  the  same  man  should  come 
home  from  Boston,  and  say  that^the  state-house  was  burnt — 
that  he  saw  it  all  in  flames — or  any  other  extraordinary  fact, 
far  more  extraordinary  than  the  efficacy  of  a  remedy  for  rheu- 
matism, I  should  believe  him,  if  it  was  only  a  case  where  he 
had  distinct  and  unquestionable  opportunity  to  observe,  and 
where  no  room  was  left  for  mistake  or  delusion. 

Now,  if  we  examine  the  miracles  which  our  Saviour  per- 
formed, and  the  opportunity  which  the  disciples  had  of  wit- 
nessing them,  we  shall  see  that  there  could  not  have  been  a 
mistake.  Remember,  however,  that  I  am  not  now  saying 
that  their  story  must  be  true:  I  am  only  here  showing  that 
they  could  not  have  been  mistaken.  They  must  have  known 
whether  what  they  were  saying  was  true  or  not.  The  case 
could  not  be  like  that  of  a  man  telling  a  ghost  story — some- 
thing which  he  thinks  is  true,  but  which  is  in  reality  not  so. 
The  things  done  were  done  in  open  day.  They  were  done 
in  presence  of  multitudes ;  and  they  were  of  such  a  nature 
that  those  who  witnessed  them  could  not  be  deceived  :  heal- 
ing what  are  called  incurable  diseases  ;  feeding  multitudes 
with  a  small  supply  of  food ;  walking  on  the  sea ;  rising 
from  the  grave,  after  remaining  upon  the  cross  till  Roman 
soldiers  were  satisfied  that  life  was  gone.  Who  could  be  a 
better  judge  of  death  than  a  Roman  soldier?     These,  and  a 


152  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

multitude  of  similar  things,  might  be  given  as  proofs  that 
these  witnesses  could  not  be  mistaken  in  what  they  described. 
They  knew  whether  they  were  true  or  not.  And  conse- 
quently if  the  third  point,  that  is,  their  honesty,  should  be 
proved,  we  must  believe  what  they  say.  If  they  had  in- 
formed us  only  of  a  few  miraculous  events,  and  those  seen 
by  a  few  people,  or  of  such  a  character  as  to  render  the  wit" 
nesses  peculiarly  liable  to  be  deceived,  we  might  have  admit- 
ted their  honesty,  but  denied  the  truth  of  their  statements. 
As  it  is,  however,  we  cannot  do  this. 

Not  only  were  the  facts  themselves  of  so  open  and  public 
a  character  that  there  could  not  be  any  mistake  about  them, 
but  the  writers  of  our  accounts  were  eye-witnesses  of  them. 
They  did  not  obtain  a  knowledge  of  them  by  hearsay  or 
report :  they  wrote  what  they  themselves  saw  and  heard. 
It  is  noticeable,  that  they  themselves  placed  peculiar  stress 
upon  this  circumstance.  Luke  begins  his  gospel  by  saying, 
"  It  seemed  good  to  me,  having  had  perfect  understanding 
of  all  things  from  the  first,  to  write  unto  thee."  John,  at 
the  close  of  his  book,  distinctly  records  the  fact,  that  the 
writer  of  the  account  was  one  of  the  principal  actors  in  the 
scenes  he  describes.  Peter,  in  his  defence  of  himself  before 
the  Jewish  authorities,  says  he  cannot  but  speak  the  things 
he  has  seen  and  heard.  But  perhaps  the  most  striking  of  all 
is,  that  when  the  apostles  came  together  to  elect  one  to  take 
the  place  of  Judas,  they  restricted  themselves  in  their  selec- 
tion to  those  who  had  been  from  the  beginning  witnesses 
of  the  whole.  "  Wherefore,"  was  the  proposition,  "of  these 
men  which  have  companied  with  us,  all  the  time  that  the 
Lord  Jesus  went  in  and  out  among1  us,  beginnine:  from  the 
baptism  of  John,  unto  that  same  day  that  he  was  taken  up 
from  us,  must  one  be  ordained  to  be  a  witness  with  us  of  his 
resurrection."  These  men  understood  the  laws  of  the  human 
mind  in  regard  to  believing  testimony.  They  knew  well  what 
was  necessary  to  make  out  a  case,  and  they  secured  it. 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  153 

"We  have  now  explained  how  the  first  two  points  in  our 
chain  of  reasoning  are  established,  and  we  may  consider  it 
as  certain,  in  the  first  place,  that  though  our  witnesses  are 
not  living,  and  consequently  cannot  present  us  their  testi- 
mony in  person,  and  although  so  long  a  time  has  elapsed 
that  their  original  writings  are  worn  out  and  destroyed,  yet 
that  there  is  abundant  evidence  that  we  have  the  real  ac- 
count which  they  delivered  ;  and  in  the  second  place,  that 
they  could  not  be  mistaken  in  the  facts  to  which  they  give 
their  testimony,  as  they  were  eye-witnesses  of  them,  and  the 
facts  are  of  such  a  nature  that  there  could  be  no  delusion. 
There  is  no  possible  way  now,  after  these  two  points  are 
established,  by  which  their  testimony  can  be  set  aside,  except 
by  the  supposition  that  they  were  impostors.  This  bringa 
us  to  our  third  and  last  point,  mentioned  on  page  144. 

3.  We  must  have  evidence  that  our  witnesses  are  credi- 
ble ;  that  is,  that  they  are  honest  men,  and  that  their  word 
can  be  relied  upon. 

The  evidence  on  this  point  is,  if  possible,  more  complete 
and  more  absolutely  unquestionable  than  upon  either  of  the 
others  :  the  honest  and  candid  manner  in  which  they  relate 
their  story  is  evidence  ;  it  is  plain,  straightforward,  and  sim- 
ple. Their  writings  have  exactly  the  air  and  tone  of  men 
conscious  that  they  are  telling  the  truth,  but  aware  that  it 
will  be  regarded  with  very  different  feelings  by  their  readers. 
They  narrate,  frankly  and  fully,  the  events  in  which  they  or 
their  companions  were  to  blame  ;  and  they  do  nothing  more 
in  regard  to  the  guilt  of  their  enemies.  There  are  no  palli- 
ating or  extenuating  statements  or  expressions  on  the  one 
side,  nor  any  disposition  to  apply  epithets  of  odium  or  exag- 
geration upon  the  other.  The  story  is  simply  told,  and  left 
to  work  its  own  way. 

How  differently  do  men  act  in  other  cases.  How  easily 
can  you  tell  upon  which  side  the  writer  is,  when  he  gives 
an  account  of  circumstances  relating  to  a  contest  between 

7* 


154  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

two  individuals  or  two  parties.  Open  any  history  of  the 
campaign  in  Russia  or  of  the  battle  of  Waterloo,  and  how 
long  can  you  doubt  whether  the  author  is  a  friend  or  an 
enemy  of  Napoleon  ?  Now,  turn  to  St.  John's  account  of 
the  trial  and  crucifixion  of  the  Saviour — a  most  unparalleled 
scene  of  cruel  suffering — and  there  is  not  a  harsh  epithet, 
and  scarcely  an  expression  of  displeasure,  on  the  part  of  the 
writer,  from  the  beginning  to  the  end  of  it :  you  would 
scarcely  know  what  was  his  opinion.  Take,  for  instance, 
the  account  of  the  preference  of  Barabbas  by  the  Jews. 
Another  writer  would  have  said,  "  The  Jews  were  so  bent 
on  the  destruction  of  their  innocent  and  helpless  victim,  that 
when  Pilate  proposed  to  release  him,  in  accordance  with  their 
custom  of  having  a  prisoner  annually  set  at  liberty  on  the 
day  of  their  great  festival,  they  chose  a  base  malefactor  in 
his  stead ;  they  preferred  that  a  robber,  justly  condemned 
for  his  crimes,  should  be  let  loose  upon  society,  rather  than 
that  the  meek  and  lowly  Jesus  should  again  go  forth  to  do 
good  to  all."  But  what  does  John  say?  There  is  no  at- 
tempt in  his  account  to  make  a  display  of  the  guilt  of  the 
Jews — no  effort  to  throw  odium  upon  them — no  exaggera- 
tion— no  coloring.  "Will  ye,"  says  Pilate,  "that  I  release 
unto  you  the  King  of  the  Jews  ?  Then  cried  they  all  again, 
saying,  Not  this  man,  but  Barabbas.  Now  Barabbas  was 
a  robber." 

In  the  same  spirit  is  the  whole  account — not  only  the 
narrative  of  this  writer,  but  all  the  writers  of  the  New  Tes- 
tament :  it  breathes  a  spirit  of  calm,  composed  dignity,  which 
scarcely  any  thing  can  equal.  In  the  midst  of  one  of  the 
greatest  moral  excitements  which  the  world  has  ever  seen, 
and  writing  upon  the  very  subject  of  that  excitement,  and 
themselves  the  very  objects  of  it,  they  exhibit  a  self-posses- 
sion and  a  composure  almost  without  a  parallel.  Exposed 
to  most  extraordinary  persecution  and  consequent  suffering, 
they  never  revile  or  retort  upon  their  oppressors.     It  is  im- 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  155 

possible  to  avoid  the  conclusion,  when  reading  the  chapters 
of  the  New  Testament,  that  the  writers  understood  and  felt 
the  moral  sublimity  of  the  position  they  were  occupying. 
They  seem  to  have  felt  that  they  were  speakhig,  not  to  a 
few  thousand  cotemporaries  in  Judea,  but  to  countless  mill- 
ions of  human  beings,  scattered  over  the  earth,  or  coming 
up,  generation  after  generation,  to  read  their*  story,  to  the 
end  of  time.  They  rise  entirely  above  all  the  influences  then 
pressing  so  strongly  upon  them,  and  in  calm  and  fearless 
independence  offer  their  testimony.  They  could  not  have 
done  this — it  is  not  in  human  nature  to  do  it — had  they  not 
been  sustained  by  this  consideration,  namely,  they  knew 
that  tltey  icere  telling  the  truth  on  the  most  momentous 
subject  ever  presented  to  men,  and  that  they  were  tell- 
ing IT  TO  THE  WHOLE  WORLD. 

Another  proof  of  their  honesty  is,  that  they  were  entire- 
ly disinterested ;  or  rather,  they  were  interested  to  conceal 
the  truth,  not  to  tell  it.  Their  testimony  brought  them 
nothing,  and  could  bring  them  nothing  but  reproach  and 
suffering  and  death.  They  saw  this  hi  the  history  of  the 
Saviour,  and  instead  of  endeavoring  to  keep  them  uncon- 
scious of  the  sufferings  that  awaited  them,  he  plainly  and 
frankly  foretold  all.  just  before  he  left  them.  He  told  them 
in  the  most  affecting  manner — the  communication  he  made 
is  recorded  in  the  fifteenth  and  sixteenth  chapters  of  the 
gospel  according  to  St.  John — all  that  should  befall  them. 
"You  must  not  expect,"  said  he,  in  substance,  "to  find  the 
world  more  kind  to  you  than  it  has  been  to  me.  They  have 
persecuted  me,  and  they  will  persecute  you.  They  will  put 
you  out  of  the  synagogues,  and  whosoever  killeth  you  will 
think  he  doeth  God  service.  I  tell  you  these  things  before- 
hand, so  that  when  the  time  shall  come,  you  will  remem- 
ber that  I  told  you,  and  be  comforted.  I  wish  you  to  under- 
stand the  dangers  and  trials  that  await  you.  You  must 
not,  however,  be  dejected  or  discouraged  because  I  have  told 


156  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

you  these  tilings.  It  is  necessary  for  me  to  go  away,  and 
it  is  necessary  for  you  to  encounter  these  evils.  But  it  is 
only  for  a  little  time.  The  years  will  pass  away  swiftly, 
and  when  you  have  done  your  duty  here,  you  shall  come  to 
me  again,  and  find  a  perpetual  home  with  me  and  my  Fa- 
ther in  a  happier  world." 

Such  was  the  substance  of  this  part  of  our  Saviour's 
farewell  address.  His  disciples  listened  to  it  in  sadness,  but 
they  did  not  shrink  from  their  duty.  A  very  few  hours  after 
hearing  these  last  words  of  their  Master  in  their  place  of 
retirement,  they  found  themselves  gazing  in  terror,  and  at  a 
distance,  at  that  dreadful  throng  which  was  pouring  out  of 
the  gates  of  Jerusalem  to  see  their  beloved  Master  struggling1 
upon  the  cross.  They  were  overwhelmed  by  this  scene ;  but 
terror  triumphed  only  for  a  time.  Immediately  after  the 
Saviour's  ascension,  we  find  them  assembled,  making  calmly, 
but  with  fixed  determination,  their  arrangements  for  future 
efforts,  and  waiting  for  the  command  from  above — one  hun- 
dred and  twenty  in  an  upper  chamber,  planning  a  campaign 
against  the  wTorld  !  They  knew,  they  must  have  known, 
that  they  themselves  went  forward  to  suffering  and  to  death. 
They  went  forward,  however.  They  told  their  story.  They 
suffered  and  died.     Must  they  not  have  been  honest  men  ? 

The  way  in  which  men  are  interested  is  always  to  be 
considered  in  judging  of  their  testimony.  If  a  juryman  is 
interested  in  the  result  of  a  trial,  he  is  set  aside  ;  he  cannot 
judge  impartially.  If  a  witness  is  interested  at  all,  his  tes- 
timony is  received  with  a  great  deal  of  caution,  or  else  abso- 
lutely rejected.  And  whenever  a  case  is  of  such  a  nature 
that  all  those  who  were  witnesses  of  the  facts  are  interested 
on  one  side  or  on  the  other,  it  is  extremely  difficult  to  ascer- 
tain the  truth.  A  very  striking  example  of  this  is  furnished 
by  the  circumstances  of  the  battle  of  Lexington,  at  the 
commencement  of  the  American  Revolution.  Each  of  the 
parties,  anticipating  a  struggle,  and  desirous  of  being  pre- 


EVIDENCES  OF   CHRISTIANITY.  157 

pared  for  it,  had  made  efforts  to  get  as  much  of  the  arms  and 
ammunition  of  the  country  as  possible  into  its  own  hands, 
and  the  British  general  in  Boston,  understanding  that  there 
was  at  Concord  a  supply  of  military  stores,  conceived  the 
design  of  sending  a  party  in  the  night  to  Concord  to  obtain 
it.  He  kept  his  design,  or  rather  tried  to  keep  it,  secret. 
Late  in  the  evening,  the  troops  embarked  in  boats  on  the 
west  side  of  the  peninsula  on  which  Boston  is  built,  and 
sailed  across  the  cove  to  the  main  land. 

This  was  done  in  silence,  and  it  was  hoped  in  secrecy. 
The  Americans  however,  in  some  way,  heard  of  the  plan. 
The  country  was  alarmed ;  men  rode  on  horseback  at  mid- 
night from  town  to  town,  ringing  the  bells  and  calling  out 
the  inhabitants,  and  by  three  o'clock  in  the  morning  a  num- 
ber of  troops  were  collected  at  Lexington  to  oppose  the  prog- 
ress of  the  British  detachment. 

Now,  neither  party  wished  to  begin  the  contest.  Like 
two  boys  eager  for  a  quarrel,  each  wished  to  throw  the 
odium  of  striking  the  first  blow  upon  the  other.  This  diffi- 
culty is  however  usually  soon  surmounted,  and  in  this  case 
the  musketry  was  scon  speaking  distinctly  on  both  sides. 
After  a  momentary  conflict  the  Americans  were  dispersed, 
and  the  British  moved  on  to  the  place  of  their  destination. 

Now,  after  all  this  was  over,  there-  arose  the  question, 
not  in  itself  very  important,  one  would  think,  but  yet  made 
so  by  those  concerned  at  the  time,  "Who  began  this  affray  ? 
Who  fired  first  ?"  To  determine  this  point,  the  American 
Congress  are  said  to  have  instituted  a  formal  inquiry.  They 
examined  witnesses  who  were  on  the  spot  and  saw  the 
whole,  and  they  found  abundant  and  satisfactory  evidence 
that  the  British  soldiers  fired  first,  and  that  the  Americans 
did  not  discharge  their  pieces  until  they  were  compelled  to 
do  it  in  self-defence.  The  British  Parliament  entered  into  a 
similar  inquiry,  and  they  came  to  an  equally  satisfactory 
conclusion — only  it  happened  to  be  exactly  the  reverse  of 


153  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

the  other.  They  examined  witnesses  who  were  on  the 
spot  and  saw  the  whole,  and  they  found  abundant  evidence 
that  the  American  soldiers  fired  first,  and  that  the  British 
did  not  discharge  their  pieces  until  they  were  compelled 
to  do  it  in  self-defence.  Now,  the  reason  for  this  disagree- 
ment unquestionably  was,  that  each  nation  examined  only 
its  own  soldiers,  and  the  soldiers  on  both  sides  were  inter- 
ested. Suppose  now,  that  there  had  been  in  the  American 
army  a  considerable  number  who  admitted  that  the  first  guns 
were  fired  from  their  own  ranks.  Suppose  that,  in  conse- 
quence of  this  their  testimony,  they  brought  upon  themselves 
the  dislike  of  the  whole  army,  and  to  a  great  extent,  of  the 
nation  at  large — how  strong  would  have  been  the  reliance 
placed  upon  such  testimony  !  "  There  cannot  be  a  doubt," 
the  British  would  have  said,  "that  you  fired  upon  us  first — 
half  of  your  Qivn  troops  say  so."  This  would  have  been  a 
very  fair  inference.  When  men  bear  testimony  contrary  to 
their  own  interests  or  feelings,  they  are  generally  believed. 

"VYe  have  thus  abundant  evidence  that  the  original  prop- 
agators of  the  gospel  were  honest  men,  and  this  completes 
the  three  positions  necessary  to  prove  that  the  Christian 
miracles  were  actually  performed. 

1 .  "VYe  are  sure  that  the  witnesses  are  honest  men. 

2.  The  facts  are  of  such  a  nature,  that  the  witnesses 
could  not  have  been  deceived  in  them. 

3.  It  is  proved  that  we  have  exactly  the  account  which 
they  themselves  gave. 

The  miracles  being  once  proved,  the  divine  authority 
of  the  religion  is  proved  ;  for  no  man  can  imagine  that  the 
Deity  would  exert  his  power  in  producing  miraculous  effects 
to  give  authority  to  a  message  which  he  did  not  send. 

There  is  one  other  independent  head  of  the 'external 
evidences  of  Christianity  :  it  is  the  argument  from  prophecy. 
They  who  brought  the  communication  which  is  offered  to 
us  as  a  message  from  heaven,  said  that  thev  were  endued 


DTJN  I  '      159 

with  the  power,  not  only  of  working  miracles,  but  of  fore-  . 
telling  future  events.  In  some  cases,  human  sagacity  can 
foresee  what  is  future,  and  even  distant.  They  however 
professed  to  exercise  this  power  in  cases  to  which  no  human 
skill  or  foresight  could  have  extended.  Such  a  power  as 
this  is  evidently  miraculous,  and  they  who  possessed  it  must 
have  received  it  from  the  Creator. 

One  or  two  examples  will  clearly  illustrate  the  nature  of 
this  argument.  A  great  number  of  the  prophets  who  ap- 
peared in  the  early  years  of  the  sacred  history,  foretold  the 
coming  of  a  Saviour.  Precisely  what  sort  of  a  Saviour  he 
was  to  be,  was  not  distinctly  foretold — at  least,  not  so  dis- 
tinctly as  to  remove  all  misconceptions  on  the  subject.  So 
certain  is  it,  however,  that  such  prophecies  were  uttered,  and 
generally  published,  that  there  prevailed  throughout  the 
Jewish  nation,  and  even  to  some  extent  in  neighboring  coun- 
tries, a  general  expectation  that  an  extraordinary  personage 
was  to  appear.  We  have  evidence  enough  of  this — not 
merely  from  the  Scriptures  themselves,  but  from  a  multitude 
of  other  writings,  which  appeared  at  that  time,  and  which 
have  come  down  to  us  by  separate  and  independent  channels. 
There  can  be  no  question  in  the  mind  of  any  one  who  wall 
examine  the  subject,  that  the  coming  of  Christ  was  predicted 
with  so  much  distinctness  as  to  produce  an  almost  universal 
expectation  of  the  appearance  of  some  very  extraordinary 
personage  ;  and  the  event  corresponded  with  the  prediction. 
A  most  extraordinary  personage  appeared ;  the  most  extra- 
ordinary, as  all  will  acknowledge — Christians  and  infidels — 
that  ever  appeared  upon  the  earth. 

Our  Saviour's  prediction  of  the  destruction  of  Jerusalem 
is  another  example.  The  scene  was  described  with  aston- 
ishing minuteness  and  accuracy,  sixty  or  seventy  years  before 
it  took  place;  and  there  was,  at  the  time  of  the  prediction, 
no  reason  whatever,  so  far  as  human  foresight  could  extend, 
to  expect  such  a  catastrophe: 


160  THE   YOUNG   CHRISTIAN. 

Now,  to  examine  fully  this  species  of  argument,  several 
points  ought  to  receive  special  attention.  First,  we  must 
ascertain  that  the  prophecy  was  really  anterior  to  the  event 
which  is  alleged  to  have  occurred  in  fulfilment  of  it.  Sec- 
ondly, that  the  event  is  such  an  one  as  human  sagacity  could 
not  have  foreseen.  Thirdly,  that  there  were  not,  in  similar 
writings,  a  multitude  of  other  prophecies  which  failed,  and 
that  those  only  have  been  preserved  which  have  apparently 
succeeded.  Fourthly,  we  must  ascertain  that  the  events 
themselves  were  not  under  the  control  of  men  in  such  a  way 
as  to  enable  those  who  were  interested  in  the  success  of  the 
prophecy  to  bring  about  the  corresponding  result. 

Now  to  examine  thoroughly  all  these  points,  so  as  really 
to  form  an  independent  judgment  upon  them,  and  to  take 
nothing  upon  trust,  requires,  in  some  instances,  no  little 
maturity  of  mind,  and  in  others,  no  little  scholarship  and 
laborious  research.  The  young  must  almost  entirely  take 
this  argument  upon  trust.  I  can  here  only  explain  its 
nature,  and  thus  prepare  you  to  read  more  understandingly 
other  works  on  this  subject.  Those  who  have  gone  into  it 
most  thoroughly,  as  is  the  case  with  all  the  historical  evi- 
dences of  Christianity,  have  been  most  convinced  of  the 
firmness  of  the  ground.  The  most  profound  scholars  in  all 
Christian  nations,  if  they  have  given  the  subject  due  atten- 
tion, have  been  most  decided  in  their  belief  of  the  Christian 
religion. 

This  completes  the  Anew  which  I  intended  to  give  of  the 
historical  argument.  It  would  require  a  volume  to  present 
the  argument  itself  in  all  its  detail.  My  design  has  been  to 
give  a  clear  idea  of  the  nature  of  this  kind  of  reasoning,  not 
to  present  all  the  facts  upon  which  the  various  pillars  of  the 
argument  are  founded.  And  here  I  might  rest  this  part  of 
my  subject,  were  it  not  that  there  is  one  consideration  which 
corroborates  very  much  the  conclusion  to  which  we  have 
come.     The  question  very  naturally  arises,  "  Was  this  story 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  161 

believed  at  the  time  ?  It  seems  to  be  a  plain  case,  that  the 
disciples  of  Christ  made  out  very  decisive  evidence  of  their 
divine  commission  ;  but  the  people  who  lived  at  that  time, 
and  upon  the  spot,  had  a  much  better  opportunity  of  judg- 
ing in  this  case  than  we  have.  Now,  did  they  believe  this 
account?" 

The  answer  is,  it  teas,  believed..  The  story  spread  with 
a  rapidity  to  which  no  other  revolution  in  the  public  mind 
can  afford  a  parallel.  When  the  hundred  and  twenty  assem- 
bled in  their  upper  room,  paganism  was  enjoying  undisturbed 
and  unquestioned  possession  of  the  whole  Ptoman  empire. 
Paganism  reigned  in  every  crowded  city  and  in  every  distant 
province.  Her  temples  crowned  a  thousand  summits ;  and 
the  multitude,  whose  interests  were  identified  with  the  sup- 
port of  her  rights,  might  at  any  time  arm  themselves  with 
all  the  power  of  the  Caesars  to  resist  the  encroachments  of 
truth.  A  hundred  and  twenty,  with  the  story  of  a  crucified 
Galilean  rising  from  the  dead,  came  forth  to  attack  this 
mighty  fabric  ;  and  they  prevailed.  Opprobrium  and  ridi- 
cule, gentle  persuasion  and  stern  menaces ;  imprisonment, 
fire  and  sword,  torture  and  death,  tried  all  their  powers  in 
vain.  And  by  what  means  did  the  fearless  assailants  in  this 
most  unequal  war  prevail  against  such  an  array  as  this? 
"Why,  simply  by  reiterating  the  declaration,  Jesus  Christ  did 
rise  from  the  grave;  and  you  ought  to  repent  of  your  sins 
and  believe  on  him.  And  they  conquered.  "The  truth  is 
great,  and  it  will  prevail,"  said  a  Ptoman  writer.  He  could 
not  have  found  an  example  like  this.  The  simple  declara- 
tion of  a  number  of  competent  witnesses,  after  a  most  ener- 
getic struggle,  prevails  over  one  of  the  greatest  civil  and 
military  powers  which  the  world  has  ever  seen.  Yes  ;  the 
story  was  believed.  It  spread  with  unexampled  rapidity, 
and  is  revolutionizing  the  moral  world. 

But  we  must  pass  to  the  second  species  of  evidence  we 
have  enumerated. 


162  •    THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN.      _ 

II.  INTERNAL  EVIDENCE.  ■ 
This  evidence  consists  of  an  examination  of  the  contents 
of  the  Bible,  to  see  whether  the  declarations  it  contains  are 
such  as  we  may  suppose  would  really  come  from  our  Maker. 
We  ought  to  enter  upon  such  an  examination,  however,  with 
great  caution ;  for  if  the  book  is  really  a  message  from 
Heaven,  we  are  to  receive  it,  whatever  it  may  contain.  It 
is  not  for  us  to  decide  what  our  Maker  ought,  and  what  he 
ought  not,  to  communicate  to  us.  It  is  interesting,  however, 
to  examine  the  contents  of  the  Scriptures,  to  see  the  indica- 
tions, with  which  the  volume  is  filled,  that  it  is  from  God. 
Some  of  these  indications  I  shall  mention. 

1.  The  remarkable  - -simplicity- o£_its  whole  design.  It 
seems  to  have  one  simple  and  single  object  from  the  begin- 
ning to  the  end  ;  and  this  is  very  remarkable,  if  we  consider 
how  many  distinct  authors  it  has,  and  in  what  distant  peri- 
ods it  was  written.  The  Bible  is  not  a  book,  but  a  library. 
It  consists  of  a  large  number  of  books  entirely  separate  and 
distinct,  bound  up  together.  The  times  at  winch  the  vari- 
ous parts  were  written  are  scattered  over  a  period  of  fifteen 
hundred  years.  The  authors  are  numerous.  It  would  be  a 
very  interesting  exercise  for  young  persons  to  attempt  to 
make  out  an  accurate"  list  of  them.  They  are  of  every  vari- 
ety of  character  and  standing — learned  and  unlearned,  rich 
and  poor,  kings,  poets,  generals.  There  is  every  variety  in 
the  character  of  the  authors  and  of  the  style  ;  and  yet  one 
single,  simple  design  is  kept  in  view  from  the  beginning  to 
the  end,  with  a  steadiness  which  is  astonishing.  But  what 
is  that  object  ?     It  may  be  stated  thus  : 

The  Bible  is  a  history  of  the  redemption  of  sinners  by 
Jesus  Christ,  and  it  is  nothing  more.  From  the  beginning 
to  the  end  of  it,  with  a  very  few,  if  any  exceptions,  it  is 
nothing  but  that.  Open  at  Genesis  and  follow  on,  chapter 
after  chapter,  and  book  after  book,  until  you  come  to  the 
final  benediction  in  the  last  chapter  of  Revelation,  it  all 


EVIDENCES   OF   CHRISTIANITY.  16 


n 


bears  upon  this.     Nov  if  this  book  was  planned  by  the  Su- 
preme, and  if  he  superintended  its  execution  during  the  fifteen 
centuries  it  was  in  progress,  all  this  is  easily  accounted  for 
Nothing  else  can  account  for  it. 

But  I  must  show  more  fully  that  this  is  the  single  and 
simple  aim  of  the  Scriptures.  Let  us  briefly  review  its  con- 
tents. It  begins  by  explaining  simply  and  clearly  the  crea- 
tion of  the  world,  and  God's  design  in  creating  it.  His  inten- 
tion was  to  have  had  a  happy  community  to  tenant  it,  who 
should  be  united  in  each  other,  and  united  to  him  ;  forming 
one  family  of  undivided  hearts  and  aims,  all  interested  hi 
the  common  welfare,  and  all  looking  to  him  as  to  the  common 
bond  of  union  and  the  common  source  of  happiness.  "  Thou 
shalt  love  the  Lord  thy  God  with  all  thy  heart,  and  thy 
neighbor  as  thyself,"  was  unquestionably  the  law  originally 
written  on  the  human  heart. 

Men  sinned,  however ;  they  broke  God's  law,  and  the 
Bible  then  describes  the  consequences  of  sin,  in  bringing  suf- 
fering upon  the  human  family.  The  earth  was  filled  with 
violence.  One  dreadful  experiment  was  tried,  by  the  flood, 
of  the  power  of  punishment — retribution — to  bring  men  back 
to  duty  ;  but  they  who  escaped  the  flood,  escaped  only  to  go 
on  in  sin. 

It  is  noticeable,  that  in  one  of  the  very  first  chapters  of 
the  Bible,  the  coming  of  the  Saviour  is  foretold,  and  from 
that  time  the  sacred  history  marks  out  and  follows  with 
minute  accuracy  the  line  of  succession  which  is  to  conduct 
us  to  that  Saviour.  There  were  a  vast  many  nations  on  the 
earth,  or  existing  in  embryo,  at  the  time  when  the  Israelites 
were  in  Egypt,  whose  history  is  far  more  important,  hi  every 
respect  but  one,  than  is  the  history  of  the  Jews.  There 
were  the  Egyptians,  the  Assyrians,  and  the  Persians.  The 
sacred  history  neglects  them  all,  and  turns  its  whole  attention 
to  a  body  of  Egyptian  slaves  ;  and  why  ?  Because  among 
these  slaves  there  was  the  ancestor  of  the  coming  Messiah 


104  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

The  Bible  represents  Jehovah  as  conducting  this  nation 
by  his  own  hand  to  a  country  which  was  to  be  their  home, 
in  order  that  he  might  preserve  them  separate  from  the  rest 
of  mankind,  and  make  them  the  keepers  of  his  communica 
tions  with  men.  A  great  part  of  the  Old  Testament  history 
is  occupied  in  giving  us  an  account  of  the  particular  institu- 
tions established  among  this  people,  and  of  the  circumstances 
of  their  own  private  history.  In  regard  to  their  institutions, 
there  seem  to  have  been  two  distinct  objects.  One  was  to 
preserve  them  separate  from  the  idolatrous  nations  around, 
in  order  that  the  worship  of  the  true  God  might  be  the  better 
preserved.  The  other  object,  perhaps  more  important,  was 
effected  by  the  institution  of  sacrifices  :  of  this  I  shall  pres- 
ently speak  more  fully.  This  Jewish  nation,  however,  in  its 
institutions  and  history,  is  followed  by  the  sacred  writers, 
who  keep  all  the  time  as  close  as  possible  to  the  line  of  suc- 
cession leading  to  Jesus  Christ.  The  coming  Saviour  is  often 
alluded  to,  especially  whenever  any  great  crisis  occurring  in 
their  history  furnishes  an  occasion  upon  which  God  makes 
to  some  leading  individual  a  distinct  communication  in  regard 
to  his  plans. 

It  is  remarkable,  how  large  a  number  of  the  individuals 
whose  lives  are  given  in  the  Old  Testament,  were  the  ances- 
tors of  Christ,  and  how  steadily  there  is  kept  in  view  the 
future  coming  of  the  Son  of  God. 

I  have  mentioned  sacrifices.  The  design  of  Jehovah  in 
establishing  these  rites  so  early,  and  taking  such  effectual 
precautions  to  secure  their  observance,  seems  to  have  been 
this  :  to  familiarize  the  minds  of  men  to  the  idea,  that  there 
must  be  atoning  blood — that  penitence  is  insufficient.  We 
are  all  much  more  ready  to  admit  this  in  reference  to  any 
other  government  than  to  the  divine.  Many  a  father  sees 
the  inefficacy  of  pardon,  merely  upon  the  ground  of  sorrow 
and  confession,  to  restrain  his  sons  from  sin  ;  and  many  a 
politician  will  admit  the  folly  of  such  a  course  in  civil  soci 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  165 

ety,  who  yet  thinks  that  God  may  govern  his  dominions  on 
such  a  principle.  In  all  God's  dealings,  however,  with  man, 
he  has  taken  other  ground.  Sacrifices  were  instituted  so 
early,  that  they  have  spread  to  almost  every  people  under 
the  sun.  Wherever  you  go — to  the  most  distant  heathen 
nation — to  the  most  barbarous  tribe — or  to  the  remotest 
island  of  the  ocean,  you  will  find  almost  all  prepared,  by  the 
very  customs  which  have  been  handed  down  from  the  time 
of  Noah,  to  admit  the  necessity,  that  there  must  be  retribu- 
tive suffering  where  there  lias  been  sin.  God  required  the 
Jews,  when  they  had  done  wrong,  to  bring  an  offering — not 
to  lead  them  to  suppose  that  the  sufferings  of  bulls  and 
goats  could  take  away  sin,  but  that  some  atonement  was 
necessary.  The  effect  upon  their  minds  was  undoubtedly 
this  :  A  man  having  committed  some  sin,  instead  of  merely 
confessing  his  guilt,  and  expecting  forgiveness  as  a  matter  of 
course,  came  with  the  innocent  dove,  or  the  harmless  lamb, 
and  offered  it  in  sacrifice  ;  and  when  he  did  it,  if  he  did  it  in 
the  right  spirit,  he  unquestionably  felt  that  his  sin  had  done 
an  injury  to  the  government  of  God,  which  he  himself  could 
not  repair.  He  could  not  come  back  to  innocence  alone. 
The  ceremony  must  have  had  a  most  powerful  influence  in 
producing  a  practical  conviction  that  sin,  once  committed, 
could  not  be  recalled  by  the  individual  who  had  committed 
it,  but  must  involve  consequences  beyond  his  control.  That 
is  precisely  the  conviction  necessary  to  enable  us  to  avail 
ourselves  of  the  redemption  of  Christ.  It  is  exactly  the 
preparation  of  heart  to  lead  us  to  him.  We  have  sinned, 
and  the  evil  we  have  done  it  is  out  of  our  power  to  remedy. 
We  may  stop  sinning,  but  the  evil  influence  of  our  past  guilt 
must  be  checked  by  some  other  agency  far  more  powerful 
than  any  penitence  of  ours.  The  Jews,  then,  by  coming 
habitually  to  the  sacrifices  of  their  law,  had  this  feeling 
thoroughly  wrought  into  all  their  thoughts  and  feelings  on 
the  subject  of  sin   and   pardon.     When  they  came   with 


166  .    THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

sincere  penitence  to  offer  the  sacrifice  required  by  the  law, 
and  with  such  a  feeling  as  I  have  described,  they  were  un- 
doubtedly forgiven  through  the  mediation  of  a  far  greater 
sacrifice,  which  was  only  represented  by  the  dove  or  the 
lamb. 

If  we  thus  look  at  the  Jewish  history  and  institutions, 
and  examine  their  spirit  and  design,  we  shall  see  that  they 
all  point  to  Christ.  One  single  object  is  aimed  at  in  all. 
After  the  history  is  brought  down  to  the  return  from  the  cap- 
tivity, if  is  suddenly  concluded — and  why  ?  Because  all  is 
now  ready  for  the  coming  of  Christ.  There  is  a  chasm  of 
several  hundred  years,  not  because  the  events  of  that  time 
are  less  interesting  than  of  the  preceding — to  the  eye  of  the 
mere  scholar  or  political  historian,  they  are  more  so — but 
because  they  do  not  bear  at  all  upon  the  great  event,  the 
redemption  of  mankind  by  Jesus  Christ,  to  which  the 
whole  Bible  tends.  The  nation  in  which  the  promised 
Saviour  is  to  come,  is  followed  in  its  various  difficulties  and 
adventures,  until  it  becomes  finally  established  in  the  coun- 
try where  the  Messiah  is  to  appear,  and  then  left.  There 
could  not  be  a  stronger  proof  that  the  Bible  has  the  history 
of  Christ  for  its  great  object,  or  that  this  object  is  kept  stead- 
ily in  view. 

As  we  draw  towards  the  development  of  the  great  plan 
of  salvation,  the  story  becomes  more  minute,  and  the  interest 
increases.  The  great  Redeemer  at  length  appears.  W  e 
have,  from  four  separate  writers,  a  narrative  of  his  life  ;  we 
have  a  simple  account  of  the  first  efforts  to  spread  the  news 
of  salvation  through  him  ;  we  have  a  few  of  the  writings  of 
some  of  those  who  originally  received  his  instructions,  and 
then  a  revelation  of  the  future — 5n  some  respects  clear  and 
distinct  in  the  awful  pictures  of  scenes  to  come  which  it 
draws,  and  in  others  dark,  and  as  yet  unintelligible  to  us — 
closes  the  volume. 

There  is  something  deeply  sublime  in  the  language  with 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  167 

which  this  final  conclusion  of  the  sacred  volume  is  an- 
nounced. Perhaps  it  was  intended  to  apply  particularly  to 
the  book  of  Revelation  itself,  but  we  can  scarcely  read  it 
without  the  conviction,  that  the  writer  felt  that  he  was 
bringing  to  a  close  a  series  of  communications  from  heaven 
which  had  been  in  progress  fifteen  hundred  years.  The 
great  subject  of  the  whole  was  now  fairly  presented  to  man- 
kind. The  nature  and  the  effects  of  sin,  the  way  of  salva- 
tion, and  the  future  scenes  through  which  we  are  all  to  pass, 
had  been  described,  and  he  closes  with  the  invitation — 0 
how  cordially  is  it  expressed — "  And  the  Spirit  and  the 'bride 
say,  Come;  and  let  him  that  heareth  say,  Come:"  that  is, 
spread  the  invitation  far  and  wide.  Let  every  one  that 
heareth  it  repeat  the  sound.  "Let  him  that  is  athirst 
come  ;  and  whosoever  will,  let  him  take  the  water  of  life 
freely."  .     • 

And  then  he  says — and  how  appropriate  for  the  last 
words  of  the  Bible — 

"  I  testify  unto  every  man  that  heareth  the  words  of  the 
prophecy  of  this  book,  If  any  man  shall  add  unto  these 
things,  God  shall  add  unto  him  the  plagues  that  are  written 
in  this  book ;  and  if  any  man  shall  take  away  from  the 
words  of  the  book  of  this  prophecy,  God  shall  take  away  his 
part  out  of  the  book  of  life,  and  out  of  the  holy  city,  and 
from  the  things  which  are  written  in  this  book." 

Yes,  the  plan  and  object  of  the  Bible  is  single  and  simple 
from  beginning  to  end.  Amidst  all  that  endless  variety 
which  makes  it  an  inexhaustible  mine  of  interest  and  in- 
struction, the  great  ultimate  desigJi  is  never  lost  sight  of  or 
forgotten.  That  design  is,  the  redemption  of  a  lost  world 
by  the  So?i  of  God — a  design  which  is  surely  great  enough 
for  God  to  announce  to  his  creatures. 

There  is  something  interesting  in  the  time  and  place 
selected  for  the  advent  of  the  Saviour.  This  earth  beino-  a 
globe,  of  course  has  not,  that  is,  its  surface  has  not  any 


1G8  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

geographical  centre ;  but  if  we  take  into  view  its  moral  and 
political  condition  and  history,  it  has  some  parts  far  more 
suitable  to  be  radiant  points  from  which  any  extraordinary 
message  from  heaven  is  to  be  disseminated  than  others.  It 
would  be  difficult  to  find  a  place  more  suitable  for  such  a 
purpose,  than  the  very  country  chosen  by  Jehovah  as  the 
scene  of  the  sufferings  and  death  of  Christ.  Look  upon  the 
map,  and  you  find  that  the  land  of  Canaan  is  situated  upon 
the  eastern  coast  of  the  Mediterranean  sea  ;  and  if  you  look 
east,  west,  north,  and  south,  at  the  various  connections  of 
this  "spot,  you  will  find  that  no  other  on  earth  will  compare 
with  it  for  the  purpose  for  which  it  was  selected.  Egypt 
and  the  other  regions  of  Africa  on  the  south,  are  balanced 
by  Syria  and  the  Caucasian  countries  on  the  north.  There 
were  the  Persian  and  Assyrian  empires  on  the  east,  and 
there  were  the  Grecian  and  Roman  empires  on  the  west. 
India  and  China,  with  their  immense  multitudes,  are  upon 
one  side,  and  modern  France,  and  England,  and  Germany, 
with  their  vast  political  power,  upon  the  other.  Then  look 
upon  the  Mediterranean  sea — on  the  borders  of  which  Ca- 
naan lies — bathing  as  it  does  the  shores  of  three  quarters 
of  the  globe,  and  bearing  upon  its  bosom  a  large  proportion 
of  all  the  ships  that  sailed  for  the  first  five  thousand  years 
of  the  earth's  history.  Palestine  is  a  most  remarkable  spot 
for  such  a  purpose.  If  no  such  communication  had  ever 
been  made  from  heaven,  and  the  earth  had  remained  in 
darkness  and  paganism  to  the  present  day,  its  history  hav- 
ing remained,  in  other  respects,  the  same  as  it  has  been, 
and  we  had  looked  over  it  to  find  the  best  station  for  an 
embassy  from  above,  Judea  would  have  been  the  very  spot. 
"We  should  have  pointed  to  the  Levant,  and  said,  here  is 
the  moral  centre  of  the  world.  If  a  missionary  from  heaven 
is  to  be  sent,  let  him  be  stationed  here. 

It  is  astonishing  how  much  of  the  interesting  history  of 
♦he  human  race  has  had  for  its  scene  the  shores  of  the  Med- 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  169 

iterranean.  Egypt  is  there.  There  is  Greece.  Xerxes, 
Darius,  Solomon,  Caesar,  Hannibal,  knew  no  extended  sea 
but  the  Mediterranean.  The  mighty  armies  of  Persia,  and 
the  smaller,  but  invincible  bands  of  the  Grecians,  passed  its 
tributaries.  Pompey  fled  across  it — the  fleets  of  Rome  and 
Carthage  sustained  their  deadly  struggles  upon  its  waters ; 
and,  until  the  discovery  of  the  passage  round  the  Cape  of 
Good  Hope,  the  commerce  of  the  world  passed  through  the 
ports  of  the  Mediterranean.  If  we  go  back  to  ancient 
ao-es,  we  find  the  Phenician  sailors — the  first  who  ventured 
upon  the  unstable  element — slowly  and  fearfully  steering 
their  little  barks  along  the  shores  of  this  sea  ;  and  if  we 
come  down  to  modern  times,  we  see  the  ships  of  every 
nation  proudly  ploughing  its  waves,  or  riding  at  anchor  in 
its  harbors.  There  is  not  a  region  upon  the  face  of  the 
earth  so  associated  with  the  recollection  of  all  that  is  inter- 
esting in  the  history  of  our  race,  as  the  shores  of  the  Medi- 
terranean sea ;  nor  a  place  more  likely  to  be  chosen  by  the 
Creator  as  the  spot  where  he  would  establish  his  commu- 
nication with  men,  than  the  land  of  Judea. 

The  time  selected  is  as  worthy  of  notice  as  the  place  ;  I 
mean  now,  the  time  of  the  advent  of  the  Messiah.  The 
world  had  been  the  scene  of  war  and  bloodshed  for  many 
centuries — empire  after  empire  had  arisen  upon  the  ruins 
of  the  preceding,  none,  however,  obtaining  a  very  general 
sway  ;  at  last  the  Roman  power  obtained  universal  ascen- 
dency— and  all  was  at  peace.  A  very  considerable  degree 
of  civilization  and  knowledge  prevailed  over  a  great  part  of 
the  then  known  world ;  and  every  tiling  was  favorable  to 
the  announcement  and  rapid  spread  of  a  message  from 
heaven,  provided  that  the  message  itself  should  come  prop- 
erly authenticated.  The  message  did  come,  and  it  was 
properly  authenticated  ;  and  the  peculiar  suitableness  of  the 
time  and  place  selected  was  seen  in  the  very  rapid  spread 
of  the  gospel  over  almost  half  the  globe. 

Y.  Christian.  O 


170  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

There  is  another  topic  of  internal  evidence  of  the  truth 
of  Christianity.  The  character  and  administration  of  God, 
as  exhibited  in  the  Bible,  correspond  precisely  with  the 
same  character  and  administration  as  exhibited  in  the  light 
of  nature.  They  both  exhibit  God  as  most  benevolent  in 
his  character,  but  most  decided  and  efficient  in  his  govern- 
ment. In  both,  we  find  him  providing  most  fully  for  the 
happiness  of  his  creatures ,  but  in  both  we  see  him  frown- 
ing upon  sin  with  an  awful  severity  of  judgment.  This  is 
a  fundamental  point,  and  it  ought  to  be  fully  understood. 
Let  us  look  then  at  God  as  he  reveals  himself  in  his  provi- 
dence, comparing  these  views  of  him  with  those  which  the 
Bible  presents. 

See  yonder  child,  beginning  life  with  streams  of  enjoy- 
ment coming  in  at  every  sense  ;  he  is  so  formed  that  every 
thing  he  has  to  do  is  a  source  of  delight :  he  has  an  eye ; 
God  has  contrived  it  most  ingeniously,  to  be  the  means  by 
which  pleasure  comes  in  every  moment  to  him — he  has  an 
ear,  so  intricately  formed  that  no  anatomist  or  physiologist 
lias  yet  been  able  to  understand  its  mysteries.  God  has  so 
planned  it,  that  he  takes  in  with  delight  the  sounds  which 
float  around  him.  How  many  times,  and  in  how  many 
ways,  does  he  find  enjoyment  by  its  instrumentality  :  the 
tones  of  conversation — the  evening  song  of  his  mother — the 
hum  of  the  insect — the  noise  of  the  storm — the  rumbling 
of  distant  thunder.  For  how  many  different  but  delightful 
emotions  has  the  Creator  provided  !  So  with  all  the  other 
senses.  And  now,  after  you  have  examined  in  this  way  the 
whole  structure,  body  and  mind,  of  this  being,  follow  him 
out  to  a  summer's  walk,  and  see  how  a  benevolent  Creator 
pours  upon  him,  from  all  the  sceneiy  of  nature,  an  almost 
overwhelming  tide  of  delight.  God  smiles  upon  him  in  the 
aspect  of  the  blue  heavens,  in  the  verdure  of  the  fields,  in 
the  balmy  breath  of  air  upon  his  cheek,  and  in  the  very 
powers  and  faculties  themselves,  which,  he  has  so  formed 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  171 

that  every  motion  is  delight,  and  every  pulsation  a  thrill  of 
pleasure.  Such  a  revelation  does  nature  make  to  us  of  the 
character  of  God,  and  of  his  feelings  towards  his  creatures ; 
and  the  Bible  corresponds  :  "  God  is  love." 

But  nature  speaks  to  us  sometimes  in  another  tone.  Let 
this  child  grow  up,  and  abandon  himself  to  vice  and  crime, 
and  after  the  lapse  of  a  few  years  let  us  see  him  again. 
How  changed  will  be  the  scene  !  To  see  him,  you  must 
follow  me  to.  the  hospital-room  of  an  almshouse  ;  for  he 
has  given  himself  up  to  vice,  and  endured  suffering  as  a 
vagabond  in  the  streets,  until  society  can  no  longer  endure 
to  witness  his  misery,  and  they  send  him  to  an  asylum  out 
of  trfeir  sight,  in  mercy  both  to  themselves  and  to  him. 
He  lies  upon  his  bed  of  straw  in  uninterrupted  agony — his 
bones  are  gnawed,  and  his  flesh  corroded  by  disease — every 
motion  is  torment,  every  pulsation  is  agony  ;  for  the  God 
who  has  so  formed  the  human  constitution,  that  in  inno- 
cence, and  in  the  health  which  generally  attends  it,  all  is 
happiness  and  peace,  has  yet  so  formed  it,  that  vice  can 
bring  upon  it  sufferings — awful  sufferings,  of  which  no  one 
but  the  miserable  victim  can  conceive.  I  once  saw  in  an 
almshouse,  a  sufferer  whose  picture  has  been  in  my  imag- 
ination while  I  have  been  WTiting  the  Above.  I  have  used 
general  terms  in  my  description.  I  might  have  given  a 
much  more  detailed  and  vivid  picture  of  his  condition,  but 
it  was  too  shocking.  Were  my  readers  to  see  the  scene, 
even  through  the  medium  of  a  description  of  ordinary  clear- 
ness, the  image  of  it  would  haunt  them  day  and  night.  As 
I  stood  by  the  side  of  this  man,  and  reflected  that  God  had 
brought  him  into  that  condition,  and  that  God  was  holding 
him  there,  and  probably  would  hold  him  in  the  same  awful 
suffering  while  life  should  remain,  I  could  not  help  saying 
to  myself,  "  With  what  an  efficient  and  decided  moral  Gov- 
ernor have  we  to  do  !"  No  man  would  have  held  this  mis- 
erable being  in  his  sufferings  a  moment :  the  superintendent 


172  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

of  the  hospital  would  have  released  him  instantly,  it  it  had 
been  in  his  power  ;  but  God  had  the  power,  and  he  held 
the  guilty  breaker  of  his  law  under  the  dreadful  weight  of 
its  penalty.  Man  shrinks  from  witnessing  suffering,  even 
where  it  is  necessary  to  inflict  it ;  but  this  feeling  will  not 
measure,  and  it  has  no  power  to  limit,  God's  dreadful  energy 
in  the  punishment  of  sin.  All  nature  tells  us  so,  and  the 
lano-ua"-e  that  the  Bible  uses  is  the  same  :  "  God  is  a  con- 
Burning  fire."  Our  feelings  can  no  more  contemplate  with 
composure,  as  our  hearts  are  now  constituted,  the  judg- 
ments which  the  Bible  denounces  against  the  wicked  in 
another  world,  than  they  can  the  agonies  of  delirium  tre- 
mens, or  the  gnawings  of  the  diseases  with  which  God  over- 
whelms the  dissipated  and  the  vile.  In  both  cases  there  is 
a  severity  whose  justice  we  must  admit,  but  whose  conse- 
quences we  cannot  calmly  follow.  If  any  one  thinks  that 
I  describe  the  character  of  God  in  too  dark  and  gloomy 
colors,  I  have  only  to  say,  that  all  nature  and  all  revelation 
unite  in  painting  God  in  the  most  dark  and  gloomy  colors 
possible,  as  he  exhibits  himself  towards  those  who  persist 
in  breaking  his  law.  He  is  love  to  his  friends,  but  he  is  a 
consuming  fire  to  his  foes  ;  and  every  one  ought  to  go  to  the 
judgment,  expecting  to  find  a  Monarch  thus  decided  and 
efficient  in  the  execution  of  his  laws,  presiding  there. 

"  The  Lord  reigneth,  let  the  earth  rejoice,"  says  the 
Psalmist ;  and  again  he  says,  "  The  Lord  reigneth,  let  the 
people  tremble."  We  have  abundant  evidence,  both  in 
nature  and  revelation,  that  we  must  rejoice  with  trembling, 
under  the  government  of  God  ;  for  that  government  is  most 
efficient  and  decided  against  sin — and  we  are  sinners. 

There  are  many  other  points  of  correspondence  between 
the  character  and  administration  of  God,  as  described  in  the 
Bible,  and  as  exhibited  in  the  constitution  of  nature  ;  but  I 
must  not  stop  now  to  describe  them.  Butler,  in  an  admi- 
rable work  usually  called  Butler's  Analogy,  has  explored 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  173 

this  ground  fully  ;  and  I  would  recommend  to  all  my  read- 
ers who  take  an  interest  in  this  subject,  to  obtain  and  study 
that  work.  I  say  study  it,  for  it  is  not  a  work  to  be  merely 
read,  in  the  ordinary  sense  of  that  term ;  it  must  be  most 
thoroughly  studied,  and  studied  too  by  minds  in  no  incon- 
siderable degree  mature,  in  order  to  be  fully  appreciated. 

I  have  endeavored,  by  thus  mentioning  several  points  in 
which  evidence  may  be  found  in  favor  of  the  truth  of  the 
Scriptures,  from  an  examination  of  their  contents,  to  illustrate 
the  nature  of  the  internal  evidence.  I  have  not  designed 
to  present  the  argument  fully. ^  Having  accomplished, 
however,  the  purpose  intended,  I  now  proceed  to  the  third 
head  I  proposed. 

III.  EXPERIMENTAL  EVIDENCE. 

The  experimental  evidence  of  the  truth  of  Christianity 
is  its  moral  jwwer  over  the  human  heart.  This  is  the  most 
convincing  of  all.  It  is  direct.  There  is  no  laborious  ex- 
amination of  witnesses  to  bring  the  truth  to  us — no  groping 
in  the  dimness  of  ancient  times,  and  straining  the  sight  to 
ascertain  the  forms  of  objects  and  the  characters  of  occur- 
rences there.  All  is  before  us.  We  can  see  distinctly,  for 
the  proof  is  near.  We  can  examine  it  minutely  and  lei- 
surely, for  it  is  constantly  recurring. 

I  have  remarked,  that  I  considered  this  species  of  evi- 
dence far  more  calculated  to  make  a  strong  impression  upon 
the  mind  than  either  of  the  two  preceding  heads  I  have  de- 
scribed, on  account  of  the  difficulty,  on  the  part  of  those 
whose  lives  are  not  devoted  to  literary  pursuits,  of  looking 
back  eighteen  hundred  years,  and  judging  with  confidence 

*  I  would  recommend  to  those  of  my  readers  who  are  interested 
in  this  part  of  my  subject,  the  examination  of  the  following  works. 
Chalmer's  Evidences  of  Christianity,  Paley's  do.,  Alexander's  do., 
Leslie's  Short  Method  with  Deists,  Paley's  Horae  Paulinas,  Butler's 
Analogy. 


174  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

of  evidence  in  regard  to  events  that  occurred  then.  But  I 
have  often  heard  it  remarked,  by  men  amply  qualified  to 
investigate  such  subjects,  that  the  power  of  the  Bible,  as 
they  have  often  seen  it  exerted,  in  elevating  to  virtue  and  to 
happiness  some  miserable  victim  of  vice  and  crime,  has  made 
a  far  stronger  impression  upon  them,  in  favor  of  its  divine 
origin,  than  any  examination  of  the  labored  arguments  of 
learned  men.  Now  this  must  be  so,  not  only  in  the  case  of 
Christianity,  but  in  all  similar  cases. 

Suppose  that  some  dreadful.plague  should  break  out  in 
London,  and  after  raging  for  many  months — suspending  all 
business,  driving  away  from  the  city  all  who  could  fly,  and 
carrying  consternation  and  death  into  all  the  families  that 
should  remain — suppose  that,  after  all  this,  the  news  should 
arrive,  that  hi  some  distant  part  of  the  earth  a  remedy  had 
been  discovered  for  the  disease.     We  will  imagine  it  to  have 
been  in  China.     Perhaps  the  same  disease  had  broken  out 
in  former  times  at  Canton,  and  some  plant  growing  in  that 
vicinity  had  been  found  to  be  a  specific  against  it :  it  would 
cure  the  sick  and  protect  the  healthy.     The  government  of 
Great  Britain  sends  a  ship  to  China  to  obtain  a  supply  of  the 
remedy.     The  time  usually  required  for  the  voyage  passes, 
and  a  telegraph  announces  the  arrival  of  the  ship  on  her 
return.     She  sails  up  the  Thames,  comes  to  anchor,  and  soon 
the  remedy  for  which  they  have  all  waited  so  anxiously  is  in 
full  circulation  about  the  city.     Now,  what  will  interest  the 
people  of  London  most  in  such  a  case  ?     "Will  it  be  an  ex- 
amination of  the  officers  of  that  ship,  in  order  to  satisfy  them- 
selves that  they  are  not  imposing  some  spurious  article  on 
the  nation?     Will  they   lay   aside  the  remedy  itself,  and 
allow  the  sick  to  die,  and  the  healthy  to  be  attacked,  while 
they  examine  the  proof  that  this  ship  has  actually  been  to 
China,  and  that  her  supercargo  was  really  faithful  hi  obtain- 
ing the  identical  article  for  which  he  was  sent  ?     No  ;   all 
such  inquiries,  if  they  were  made  at  all,  would  be  left  to  the 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  175 

few  official  agents  by  whom  the  ship  had  been  employed. 
The  mass  of  the  population  would  turn  themselves  to  the 
remedy  itself,  with  the  eager  question,  "  Will  this  medicine 
cure?"  And  notwithstanding  any  scepticism  or  opposition 
of  a  few  who  might  be  interested  hi  sustaining  some  other 
mode  of  treatment,  the  imported  remedy,  if  found  successful 
upon  trial,  would  soon  be  hi  universal  use  among  the  sick 
all  over  the  city. 

Now,  shall  a  man  who  is  still  under  the  power  and  do 
minion  of  sin,  with  this  great  remedy — which  has  saved, 
and  is  continually  saving  thousands  all  around  him — entirely 
within  his  reach,  shall  he  waste  his  time  in  speculations  and 
inquiries  in  regard  to  the  manner  in  which  Christianity  came 
into  the  world,  instead  of  flying  to  it  at  once  as  the  remedy 
for  all  his  sin  and  suffering  ?  No ;  come  at  once  and  try 
the  remedy.  It  restores  others  to  health  and  happiness,  and 
it  will  restore  you.  Come  and  be  saved  by  it,  and  then  you 
may  inquire  at  your  leisure  how  it  came  into  the  world. 

In  regard  to  the  case  supposed  above,  I  have  spoken  ot 
the  scepticism  or  opposition  of  those  who  might  be  interested 
in  some  other  mode  of  treatment.  Suppose  one  of  these 
men,  interested  in  the  continuance  of  the  disease,  and  inhu- 
man enough  to  desire  on  this  account  to  perpetuate  the  mis- 
ery of  his  fellows,  should  come  into  some  wretched  tenement 
in  a  crowded  part  of  the  city,  and  should  find  there  one  or 
two  inmates  under  all  the  power  of  the  disease.  They  are 
children.  The  mother  has  been  away  to  some  public  office 
from  which  the  remedy  is  distributed  to  the  poor,  and  has 
obtained  a  supply  for  her  dying  boys.  As  she  comes  to  their 
bedside,  and  begins  with  trembling  joy  to  administer  it,  her 
hand  is  arrested  by  the  visitor,  who  says  to  her,  "  Stop ;  how 
do  you  know  that  this  is  a  real  remedy  for  this  disease  ?  I 
believe  it  is  all  an  imposition.  That  ship  never  came  from 
China.  I  believe  the  captain  and  crew  all  united  in  an 
attempt  to  impose  upon  the  community ;   at  any  rate,  you 


176  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

have  yet  no  evidence  to  the  contrary.  You  have  not  ex- 
amined her  papers,  you  have  seen  no  official  documents,  you 
have  heard  no  witnesses.  If  you  are  wise,  you  will  look 
into  this  subject  a  little  before  you  place  your  confidence  in 
a  remedy  which  will  probably,  after  all,  prove  only  impos- 
ture and  delusion." 

What  would  be  the  reply  ?  The  mother,  if  she  should 
stop  to  say  any  thing,  would  say  this  : 

"  I  have  not  time  to  examine  any  documents  or  witness- 
es ;  my  children  are  dying.  Besides,  this  medicine  has  cured 
hundreds  in  this  city,  and  is  curing  hundreds  more.  Nay,  I 
was  myself  sick,  and  it  cured  me.  That  is  the  evidence  I 
rely  upon.  I  believe  it  will  save  them,  and  there  is  nothing 
else  to  try." 

That  is  in  substance  what  she  would  say,  and  they  who 
wish  to  be  saved  from  sin  should  say  the  same.  You  suffer 
now  under  this  disease,  and  you  must  suffer  more  hereafter, 
and  nothing  but  Christianity  pretends  to  be  able  to  save.  It 
is  successful  wherever  it  is  tried.  Now,  suppose  an  infidel 
or  a  vicious  man,  interested  in  perpetuating  sin  in  tins  world, 
and  inhuman  enough  to  be  willing  that  the  sufferings  of  sin 
should  continue  to  burden  Iris  fellows,  should  come  and  say 
to  you,  "  This  religion  is  delusion ;  it  is  all  an  imposture." 
You  need  not  go  with  him  into  any  examination  of  docu- 
ments and  witnesses ;  you  ought  only  to  say,  "  Christianity 
saves  others,  and  makes  them  virtuous  and  happy ;  and  I 
hope  it  will  save  me." 

But  I  must  present  more  distinctly  the  evidence  that  the 
gospel  of  Christ  has  power  to  rescue  from  sin,  and  that  it 
exhibits  this  power  now  hi  the  world.  "And  now,  how 
shall  I  show  this  ?"  thought  I,  when  I  first  began  to  reflect 
on  the  way  in  which  I  should  treat  this  part  of  my  subject. 
"  How  shall  I  present  most  clearly  and  vividly  to  the  young 
the  moral  power  of  Christianity?"  I  thought  first  of  the 
elevated  rank  in  knowledge,  in   civilization,  to  which   all 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  177 

Christian  nations  had  attained,  and  concluded  to  show,  if  I 
could,  that  the  passions  and  sins  of  men  always,  when  left 
to  themselves,  loaded  communities  with  a  burden  which  kept 
the  mind  from  expanding,  and  the  arts  of  life  from  flourish- 
ing, and  bound  down  the  whole  in  barbarism,  or  in  subjec- 
tion to  despotic  power.  Among  the  thousands  of  nations 
which  this  earth  has  seen,  there  have  not  been  more  than 
half  a  dozen  exceptions  to  this.  Christianity  controls  these 
passions,  and  purifies  communities  to  such  an  extent,  that 
mind  is  free  ;  and  then  the  energies  with  which  God  has  pro- 
vided them  freely  expand.  Religion  has  taken  off  the  press- 
ure which  had  imprisoned  them  ;  and  thus  Christian  nations 
have  arisen  to  a  rank  and  power  and  freedom  which  no  other 
communities  have  ever  attained.  There  is  not  a  savage  S 
Christian  nation  on  the  globe.  A  savage  Christian  !  It  is 
a. contradiction  in  terms. 

But  I  thought  that  such  general  views  and  statements 
were  not  calculated  to  produce  so  distinct  and  clear  an  im- 
pression upon  the  mind,  especially  upon  the  young ;  and 
then  I  thought  that  I  might  point  my  readers  to  particular 
cases  which  have  occurred  undoubtedly  within  the  observa- 
tion of  every  one.  There  is  not  a  village  in  our  land  where 
are  not  to  be  seen  some  of  the  triumphs  of  the  gospel. 
Xhere  is  a  vicious  man  reclaimed,  or  a  careless,  selfish,  un- 
governable young  man  made  humble  and  faithful  and  docile, 
by  the  power  of  the  gospel.  Such  cases  are  within  the  ob- 
servation of  every  one  ;  and  if  each  one  of  my  readers  would 
look  at  some  such  case  which  has  occurred  within  his  own 
immediate  reach,  and  examine  all  its  circumstances,  he  would 
find  hi  it  an  overwhelming  proof  that  the  gospel  is  indeed  a 
remedy  for  sin. 

But  to  show  distinctly  the  efficacy  of  this  remedy  for  sin, 
I  shall  point  you  to  its  operation  in  particular  cases.  And 
in  choosing  the  cases  to  present,  I  have  selected  some  where 
the  disease  had  indeed  made  great  progress,  but  whicn  are, 

8* 


178  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

in  other  respects,  very  common.  They  are  both  cases  of 
convicts  in  a  state-prison.  I  might  perhaps  have  selected 
narrations  far  more  interesting  and  striking,  but  I  have  cho- 
sen to  present  those  which  may  be  taken  as  a  fair  specimen 
of  the  ordinary  effects  of  the  Bible,  under  the  divine  blessing, 
in  saving  from  sin.  My  object  is  utility,  and  it  is  therefore 
far  better  to  secure  sound  logic  than  to  bring  forward  a 
romantic  story. 

The  reason  I  take  the  cases  of  convicts  is,  because  I  am 
now  considering  Christianity  in  regard  to  its  power  to  heal 
the  disease,  sin ;  of  course,  the  more  violent  the  form  of  the 
disease,  the  more  clear  is  the  exhibition  of  power  in  the 
remedy  which  cures  it.  The  prisons  of  our  country  may  be 
considered  as  hospitals,  moral  hospitals,  where  those  whose 
diseases  have  become  so  violent  and  malignant,  that  it  is  no 
longer  safe  to  allow  them  to  go  at  large  in  society,  are  shut. 
up,  so  that  they  can  injure  no  one,  at  least  for  a  time.  It 
has  been,  and  is  now  the  practice  in  many  countries,  to  shut 
up  these  miserable  victims  together,  and  leave  them  to  them- 
selves. Of  course,  they  grew  worse  and  worse.  The  prac- 
tice is  as  absurd  as  it  would  be  to  send  a  hundred  patients, 
in  all  the  stages  of  fever,  consumption,  and  plague,  into  one 
great  crowded  hospital  together,  with  no  physician,  no  medi- 
cine, and  no  attendants  but  turnkeys,  and  there  to  leave 
them,  each  one  by  the  unobstructed  intercommunication 
conveying  his  own  peculiar  infection  to  all  the  rest ;  the 
whole  exposed  to  every  cause  that  can  aggravate  disease, 
and  thus  forming  one  living  mass  of  pestilence  and  corrup- 
tion. Such  have  been  a  great  many  prisons,  and  those  who 
entered  them  came  out  far  worse  than  they  went  in. 

Some  philanthropists  formed,  some  years  ago,  the  plan 
of  visiting  these  prisons,  and  carrying  the  Bible  there,  be- 
lieving that  its  divine  truths  would  cure  even  those  desperate 
cases  of  disease — and  it  has  succeeded.  A  vast  number  of 
the  most  abandoned  men  have  been  entirely  reformed  by  it. 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  179 

I  do  not  mean,  that  they  have  pretended  to  he  reformed  while 
in  the  prison,  hut  that  they  have  proved  themselves  reform- 
ed hy  their  good  conduct  after  having  been  restored  to  soci- 
ety, when  the  time  of  their  imprisonment  had  expired. 

The  account  of  the  first  case  I  shall  mention  was  taken 
down  from  the  individual's  own  lips.  There  is  nothing  ex- 
traordinary in  it,  except  that  he  was  a  very  bad  man.  I 
give  the  account  in  his  own  language,  except  that  I  have  in 
one  or  two  instances  inserted  a  few  words  to  make  the  sense 
more  clear,  and  I  have  omitted  some  of  the  very  frank  con- 
fessions of  his  vices  and  crimes,  which  could  not  be  properly 
introduced  into  this  book. 

THE   FIRST  CONVICT'S  STORY. 

"  When  I  had  been  in  prison  about  eighteen  months,  I 
began  to  think  of  my  past  ways,  and  to  see  that  I  had  sinned 
against  God — to  think  about  dying,  and  where  I  should  go 
when  I  should  die  and  appear  before  God.  When  I  first 
came  here,  I  did  not  think  any  thing  about  dying ;  I  had  no 
just  idea  of  the  holy  Scriptures,  and  did  not  know  any 
thing  of  the  Lord.  Once  I  went  off  from  all  my  friends,  and 
never  let  any  of  them  know  where  I  was  going.  I  led  one 
of  my  brothers  away,  and  it  was  the  means  of  his  death. 
After  I  lost  my  brother  I  went  home  again,  and  my  father 
blamed  me  for  leading  him  away.  I  had  been  two  years 
from  home,  and  my  parents  said  that  I  was  the  means  of 
my  brother's  death.  They  tried  to  make  me  steady,  and  get 
me  work  at  home  then ;  but  I  wouldn't  be  steady  more  than  a 
few  months  before  I  went  off  again.  My  father  told  me  I  was 
fitting  myself  for  the  state's  prison.  I  went  away,  however, 
and  it  was  only  about  two  months  before  I  committed  my 
crime,  and  was  put  into  jail.  That  was  the  first  time  I  ever 
saw  the  inside  of  a  prison.  I  often  used  to  think  of  my  broth- 
er after  I  came  into  the  prison.  A  great  many  nights  I  used 
to  see  a  black  coffin  placed  before  me.  and  hear  a  voice  tell- 


180  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

ing  me  I  must  go  soon  and  follow  him.  I  not  only  thought 
of  these  things,  but  all  my  wicked  thoughts  and  all  my 
actions  were  presented  before  me — what  I  had  done,  and 
how  I  had  walked  in  the  sight  of  the  Lord.  I  used  to  be  a 
very  vicious  man,  and  all  the  places  where  I  had  been  would 
appear  before  me.  And  I  used  to  be  a  violent  blasphemei 
too,  and  a  riotous  person ;  and  I  saw  a  sign  which  said,  this 
is  the  road  adulterous  persons  and  blasphemers  go. 

"  After  I  had  thought  about  my  wicked  life,  I  felt  that  I 
had  incurred  the  holy  displeasure  of  the  Lord,  and  deserved 
all  that  he  could  inflict  upon  me.  I  thought  that  I  could 
not  suffer  too  much.  I  could  then  see  the  hand  of  the  Lord, 
how  it  had  followed  me  in  every  place  where  I  had  been.  I 
found  that  it  was  the  law  of  the  Lord  that  brought  me  here 
for  sins  which  I  had  committed  against  God,  and  not  against 
my  fellow-men."    Here  the  gentleman  who  was  visiting  him 

asked  him, 

"  How  does  your  heart  appear  to  you  now  ?" 

"  My  heart  appears  at  times  set  upon  evil ;  but  then, 
again,  sometimes  I  feel  that  I  shall  get  to  heaven  ;  and  then, 
again,  I  feel  very  much  discouraged.  Whenever  wicked 
thoughts  arise  in  my  heart,  I  sometimes  feel  that  the  Lord 
has  given  me  up.  Then,  again,  there  is  something  to  en- 
liven my  feelings,  and  all  my  wicked  thoughts  go  away ; 
my  worldly  thoughts  will  be  drawn  away,  and  my  mind  will 
be  on  heavenly  things.  I  did  not  know  what  it  meant  when 
my  heart  used  to  burn  within  me,  until  I  asked  my  teacher 
in  Sabbath-school,  if  a  man's  heart  would  be  warm  when  he 
had  right  feelings  of  heart." 

"  Do  you  find  temptation  to  sin  now  ?"  asked  the  gentle- 
man. 

"  Yes,  sir." 

"What  do  you  do?" 

"  I  trust  in  the  Lord." 

"Do  you  yield  to  your  evil  passions  and  lusts  now  ?" 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  181 

"  I  have,  sometimes.  I  feel  now  that  the  Lord  will  keep 
me  from  them.  There  is  nothing  that  causes  me  to  grieve 
so  much  as  that  very  thing." 

"  Does  it  take  away  your  happiness  ?" 

"  It  did  for  a  time." 

"  What  security  can  you  have,  that  when  you  go  out 
you  will  not  do  just  as  you  have  done  ?" 

"  All  my  hope  is  in  the  Lord.  I  rely  upon  the  mercy  of 
the  Lord  to  keep  me.  Of  myself,  I  can  do  nothing ;  I  rely 
upon  the  mercy  of  the  Lord." 

"  Were  you  a  drunken  man  ?" 

"  I  have  been  intoxicated  a  number  of  times,  but  I  was 
never  much  given  to  it." 

.  In  the  course  of  the  conversation  the  convict  said, 

"  I  want  to  ask  if,  after  men  have  repented  of  their  sins, 
there  will  ever  be  times  when  they  will  give  up  to  their 
lusts?" 

"It  is  a  very  bad  sign  if  they  do,"  replied  the  gentle- 
man. 

"  Once,  when  I  was  greatly  tempted,  I  wept  before  the 
Lord  night  after  night,  and  there  was  a  man  appeared  to  me 
in  the  room,  and  said  to  me,  '  Thy  sins  are  pardoned  ;'  and 
since  that  I  have  been  no  more  tempted,  and  I  think  it  was 
to  show  me  that  I  had  trusted  too  much  to  my  own  heart. 
I  thought  I  had  been  so  long  without  any  temptation,  that  I 
was  fairly  weaned.  I  thought  so  ;  but  then  I  was  tempted, 
and  now  I  know  I  trusted  more  to  my  own  heart  than  I  did 
to  the  Lord." 

Such  was  the  substance  of  the  conversation,  taken  down 
by  the  gentleman  on  the  spot,  and  copied  by  me  for  this 
book,  from  his  original  record.  And  I  beg  that  my  readers 
will  not  forget  that  my  object  in  presenting  it,  is  not  to  offer 
them  a  remarkable  or  an  interesting  story.  There  is  nothing 
remarkable  in  it,  and,  excepting  for  the  purpose  of  my  argu- 
ment, nothing  particularly  interesting.     It  is,  however,  a 


182  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

remarkably  fair  specimen  of  the  ordinary  operation  of  relig- 
ious truth,  in  convicting  of  sin  and  bringing  man  back  to  his 

duty. 

But  I  must  postpone  the  comments  upon  this  story  which 
I  intend  to  make,  until  I  have  given  the  second  narrative. 
The  reason  why  I  present  two  is,  because  no  one  that  I  could 
obtain  exhibits,  so  fully  as  I  could  wish,  all  the  important 
points  I  wish  to  bring  to  view. 

THE   SECOND  CONVICT'S  STOEAr. 

There  lived  in  one  of  the  middle  states,  some  years  ago, 

a  man  whom  I  shall  call  W .     I  suppress  his  real  name. 

His  character  was  bad,  and  he  lived  with  another  man  whose 
character  was  worse  than  his  own. 

His  employer  having  some  quarrel  with  another  man, 

wanted  W to  kill  him.     He  endeavored  for  five  or  six 

months  to  induce  him  to  do  it,  but  he  did  not   succeed. 

"VV however  showed  a  degree  of  indecision  about  it  which 

encouraged  his  wicked  employer  to  persevere.  A  good  man 
would  have  refused  an  application  like  that  in  such  a  man- 
ner that  it  never  would  have  been  renewed. 

The  employer,  however,  understood  his  character,  and, 
like  all  other  bad  men  who  endeavor  to  induce  others  to  com- 
mit crime,  he  knew  of  an  agent  which  would  effectually 

assist  him   to  prevail  upon  W to  do  the  fatal  deed. 

That  agent  was  ardent  spirit — the  universal  stimulus  to 
crime.  He  accordingly  gave  it  to  him,  not  hi  such  quanti- 
ties as  completely  to  intoxicate  him,  but  moderately,  only 
enough  to  destroy  what  little  conscience  he  had,  and  yet 
leave  him,  in  a  considerable  degree,  the  possession  of  his 
faculties. 

After  he  had  drank  the  rum,  he  went  and  lay  down  to 
sleep  in  the  skirts  of  a  wood,  where  they  expected  to  commit 
the  murder.  In  a  little  while  another  man,  who  had  been 
employed  to  assist  in  this  work,  came  and  woke  him  up,  and 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  183 

said  to  him,  "  If  we  mean  to  do  any  thing,  we  had  better  do 

it  now."     W accordingly  rose,  and  they  went  together. 

"When  they  came  to  their  victim,  "W shot  at  him,  and 

then  his  accomplice  took  the  gun  and  beat  him  over  the  head 
till  he  was  dead. 

Two  persons  were  hung  for  this  crime,  and  W was 

sentenced  to  the  state-prison   for  a  long  time.      The  man 

whom  they  had  killed  was  a  very  bad  man  ;  but  as  W 

afterwards  said,  that  was  no  cloak  for  him. 

When  W came  to  the  prison,  he  was  very  ignorant ; 

he  did  not  know  his  own  age  accurately,  and  he  could  not 
read.  There  was  in  that  prison,  however,  a  very  faithful 
chaplain,  who,  knowing  that  the  Bible  alone  could  be  the 
means  of  reforming  the  miserable  convicts,  always  placed 
that  book  before  them  immediately.  "When  they  could  not 
read,  he  used  to  teach  them.  I  have  been  told  that  this 
course  has  been  taken  to  teach  them  :  the  first  lesson  was 
the  first  word  in  the  Bible — I-n. 

"  That  word  is,  In"  the  teacher  would  say  to  the  pris- 
oner in  his  cell.  "  Can  you  see  how  many  letters  there  are 
in  it  !■' 

"  Two,"  the  prisoner  would  reply,  after  examining  it. 

"Yes,"  answers  the  teacher;  "the  first  letter  is  called 
i;  the  second,  n.  These  letters  are  very  common  in  the 
Bible,  and  in  all  reading  ;  see  if  you  can  find  another  n  any- 
where on  this  page." 

The  prisoner  then  would  look  very  attentively  along  the 
lines  until  he  found  the  letter  required.  If  he  made  a  mis- 
take, and  found  an  on  or  an  r  instead,  the  teacher  would 
explain  the  difference,  and  call  his  attention  more  fully  to 
the  true  form  of  the  n.  He  would  also  explain  the  differ- 
ence between  the  capital  and  small  *,  and  show  his  pupil 
that  he  must  expect  to  find  the  small  i,  generally.  He 
would  then  leave  him,  asking  him  to  find  as  many  of  those 
letters  as  he  could  before  the  teacher  should  come  again. 


184  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

The  next  lesson  would  be  the  next  word,  the  ;  and  thus  the 
pupil  would  go  on  slowly,  spelling  his  way,  until  he  had 
learned  to  read  for  himself. 

The  attempt  to  learn  to  read  was  proposed  to  W , 

and  he  commenced  it ;  and  although  considerably  advanced 
in  life,  he  made  no  little  progress  in  his  work.  He  was 
soon  able  to  read  considerably  ;  and  as  the  truths  of  the  word 
of  God  came  home  to  his  mind,  they  produced  their  usual 
effects  there  :  they  led  him  to  see  his  sins,  and  to  feel  them  ; 
and  they  led  him  to  come  to  the  Saviour  for  pardon.  His 
Avhoie  character  was  changed ;  but  I  must  allow  him  to 
describe  this  change  in  his  own  words. 

These  words  were  taken  down  by  the  same  gentleman 
whom  I  have  mentioned  before.  He  visited  him  in  prison, 
and  after  first  conversing  with  him  in  regard  to  the  crime 
for  which  he  had  been  committed,  asked  him, 

"Well,  Yv ,  how  do  this  and  all  your  other  sins  now 

appear  to  you?" 

"  Very  great,"  said  he  ;  "  but  this  does  not  appear  so 
great  as  all  my  other  sins  against  God — cursing  and  swear- 
ing, and  getting  drunk.  When  I  first  began  to  reflect  in 
my  cell,  I  saw  my  sins  so  great  that  I  felt  I  could  not  be 
forgiven.  I  was  sitting  down  one  day  at  my  work  in  the 
prison,  and  the  chaplain  came  along  and  asked  me  my  crime. 
I  told  him. 

"'That,'  said  he,  'is  one  of  the  greatest  crimes;  but 
then  you  may  remember  David's  sin,  and  he  was  forgiven. 
Let  your  crime  be  as  great  as  it  will,  pray  to  God,  and  put 
your  trust  in  him,  and  you  shall  find  rest  to  your  soul.' 

"He  told  me  also,  that  if  I  could  not  read,  he  would  visit 
me  in  my  cell,  and  put  me  in  the  way.  I  shall  ever  We 
him  while  God  gives  me  breath  ;  I  shall  love  the  chaplain, 
for  he  put  me  in  the  way  to  obtain  the  salvation  of  my  soul ; 
he  made  me  promise  him  faithfully  that  I  would  go  to  God, 
and  try  to  find  mercy  ;  and  yet,  master,  I  had  doubt  in  my 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  185 

heart — my  sins  were  so  heavy — whether  I  should  be  forgiv- 
en. The  chaplain  soon  left  me,  and  I  went  into  my  cell  and 
poured  out  my  heart  'to  God  to  have  mercy  on  me.  The 
more  I  prayed  the  more  miserable  I  grew.  Heavier  and 
heavier  were  my  sins. 

"  The  next  day  Mr.  B came  along,  and  I  asked  him 

to  read  a  chapter  to  me;  and,  as  God  would  have  it,  he 
turned  to  the  fifty-fifth  chapter  of  Isaiah.  It  said,  'Every 
one  that  thirsteth,  come  ye  to  the  waters  ;  and  he  that  hath 
no  money,  come  ye,  buy  wine  and  milk  without  price.'  He 
read  along  to  where  the  prophet  says,  '  Let  the  wicked  for- 
sake his  way,  and  the  unrighteous  man  his  thoughts,  and  let 
him  return  unto  the  Lord,  and  he  will  have  mercy  upon 
him,  and  to  our  God,  for  he  will  abundantly  pardon.  For 
my  thoughts  are  not  your  thoughts,  neither  are  your  ways 
my  ways,  saith  the  Lord.  For  as  the  heavens  are  higher 
than  the  earth,  so  are  my  ways  higher  than  your  ways,  and 
my  thoughts  than  your  thoughts.' 

"  I  found  this  gave  me  great  encouragement  to  go  on  to 
pray,  to  see  if  I  could  find  relief  from  all  my  troubles — the 
load  of  sin  that  was  on  my  heart.  I  thought  and  prayed, 
and  the  more  I  prayed  the  more  wretched  I  grew — the 
heavier  my  sins  appeared  to  be. 

"  A  night  or  two  after  that,  the  chaplain  came  to  my 
cell  and  asked  me  how  I  felt.  I  told  him  my  sins  were 
greater  than  I  could  bear — so  guilty — so  heavy.  He  asked 
me  if  I  thought  praying  would  make  my  sins  any  less  ;  I 
gave  him  no  answer.  He  soon  left  me,  and  I  went  again 
to  prayer.  I  was  almost  fit  to  expire.  In  all  my  sorrows 
I  had  not  a  right  sorrow.  My  sorrow  was  because  I  had 
sinned  asainst  man. 

"The  Sunday  following,  just  after  I  had  carried  my  din- 
ner into  my  cell,  I  put  my  dinner  down,  and  went  to  prayer. 
I  rose,  and  just  as  I  rose  from  my  prayer  the  chaplain  was 
at  the  door.     '  We  are  all  guilty  creatures,'  he  said  to  me, 


186  THE  YOUKG  CHRISTIAN. 

'  and  we  cannot  be  saved  unless  God,  for  Christ's  sake,  will 
save  us.  If  we  pray  and  go  to  God,  we  must  go  in  the 
name  of  Jesus  Christ ;  if  we  expect  to  be  saved,  we  must  be 
saved  through  the  blood  and  righteousness  of  Jesus  Christ.' 
Then  I  picked  up  encouragement. 

11 '  The  sins  which  you  have  committed,'  he  went  on, 
'  are  against  your  fellow-creatures,  but  they  are  much  more 
against  God.'  Now  I  never  knew  before  that  they  were 
against  God.  "When  the  chaplain  left  me  I  went  to  prayer 
again.  I  could  eat  nothing  that  day.  I  did  not  eat  a 
mouthful. 

"  I  recollected  at  that  time  that  a  minister  had  told  me, 
whenever  I  had  a  chapter  read,  to  have  the  fifty-first  Psalm. 
I  could  not  see  any  body  to  get  to  read  it,  and  how  to  find  it 
I  did  not  know ;  and  the  Sunday  following,  before  the  keeper 
unlocked  the  door,  I  rose  up  and  went  to  prayer,  and  I 
prayed,  '  0  Lord,  thou  knowest  I  am  ignorant,  brought  up 
in  ignorance.  Thou  knowest  my  bringing  up.  Nothing  is 
too  hard  for  thee  to  do.  May  it  please  thee,  0  Lord,  to  show 
me  that  chapter,  that  I  may  read  it  with  understanding.'  I 
rose  from  prayer,  and  went  to  my  Bible  and  took  it  up.  I 
began  at  the  first  Psalm,  and  turned  over  and  counted  every 
Psalm,  and  it  appeared  to  me  that  God  was  with  me,  and  I 
counted  right  to  the  fifty-first  Psalm.  I  could  read  a  little, 
and  I  begun  to  spell  H-a-v-e  m-e-r-c-y,  etc. ;  I  looked  over  the 
Psalm  and  spelt  it,  and  read  it,  and  then  put  the  Bible  down, 
and  fell  upon  my  knees  and  prayed,  '  Have  mercy  upon  me ; 
0  God,  according  unto  the  multitude  of  thy  tender  mercies 
blot  out  my  transgressions.  "Wash  me  thoroughly  from  mine 
iniquities,  and  cleanse  me  from  my  sins,  for  my  sin  is  ever 
before  me.  Against  thee,  thee  only  have  I  sinned,  and  done 
this  evil  in  thy  sight ;  that  thou  mightest  be  justified  when 
thou  speakest,  and  clear  when  thou  judgest.' 

"  "When  I  came  to  the  words,  '  Deliver  me  from  blood- 
guiltiness,'  I  was  struck  dumb.     I  could  not  say  any  more 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  187 

at  that  time.     I  fell  upon  my  knees  and  prayed  to  God  to 
have  mercy  upon  me,  for  Christ's  sake.     But  I  only  grew 
more  and  more  miserable.     The  load  of  my  sins  was  heav 
ier  and  heavier. 

"All  that  I  had  ever  done  came  plain  and  open  in  my 
sight,  and  I  was  led  to  see  that  I  must  perish ;  there  was  nc 
help  for  me ;  all  my  sin  was  upon  my  own  head." 

Such  is  the  miserable  criminal's  account  of  the  suffering 
to  which  he  was  brought  b}'-  the  sense  of  guilt  which  the 
Bible  was  the  means  of  fastening  upon  his  soul.  He  con- 
tinued in  this  state  for  some  time,  until  at  last,  as  he  himself 
describes  it,  one  day,  when  he  was  praying  in  his  cell,  his 
burden  of  guilt  was  removed.  He  felt  that  he  might  hope 
for  pardon  through  Jesus  Christ.  The  relief  which  this 
feeling  brought  over  his  mind  seems  to  have  been  almost 
indescribable.  Every  thing  wore  a  new  aspect ;  even  the 
gloomy  prison  seemed  a  cheerful  and  happy  place.  His 
expressions  of  joy  would  appear  almost  extravagant  to  any 
person  not  sufficiently  acquainted  with  the  human  mind  to 
understand  how  the  whole  aspect  of  external  objects  will  be 

controlled  by  the  emotions  which  reign  in  the  heart.     W 

concluded  his  narration  in  these  words  : 

"And  ever  since  that,  master,  this  place  where  I  have 
been  confined,  has  been  to  me  more  like  a  palace  than  a 
prison — every  thing  goes  agreeable.  I  find  I  have  a  deceit- 
ful heart ;  but  Jesus  tells  me,  if  I  lack  knowledge  he  will 
always  lend,  if  I  cast  my  care  on  Jesus,  and  do  not  forget  to 
pray.  It  is  my  prayer,  morning  and  evening,  that  I  may  hold 
out.  If  I  die  here,  let  me  die,  Lord,  in  thine  arms.  I  have 
great  reason  to  bless  this  institution,  and  every  stone  in  it." 

Now  although  it  is  not  very  common  to  obtain,  in  writ- 
ing, accounts  of  changes  of  character  among  convicts  so  full 
and  minute  as  this,  yet  the  cases  themselves  are  very  com- 
mon ;  so  common,  that  where  a  prison  is  regulated  in  such 


188  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

a  manner  that  the  prisoners  are  not  exposed  to  evil  influence 
from  each  other,  and  the  Bihle  has  the  opportunity  to  try  its 
power,  the  whole  aspect  of  the  prison  is  changed.  After  J 
had  written  the  above,  I  was  conversing  upon  the  subject  of 
this  chapter  with  a  gentleman  much  interested  in  the  im- 
provement of  prisons,  and  he  asked  me  if  I  had  ever  visited 
the  prison  at  Charlestown,  Massachusetts.  I  told  him  I  had 
not.  "  If  you  will  go  over  with  me,  Sabbath  morning,"  said 
he,  "  and  visit  the  Sabbath  school  formed  there,  you  will  see 
the  moral  power  of  the  Bible  far  more  distinctly  than  you 
can  by  any  such  single  descriptions  as  these." 

I  of  course  gladly  availed  myself  of  the  opportunity  to 
accompany  him.  We  walked  accordingly  on  Sabbath  morn- 
ing, at  the  appointed  hour,  over  one  of  those  long  bridges 
which  comiect  the  peninsula  of  Boston  with  the  main  land. 
The  prison  is  situated  in  Charlestown,  on  a  point  of  land 
near  the  Charles  river.  The  yard  extends  to  the  water's 
edge,  to  afford  facilities  for  lading  and  unlading  the  boats 
wmich  transport  stone — hammering  stone  for  building  being 
the  principal  business  at  which  the  convicts  are  employed. 

When  we  reached  the  outer  gate  of  the  prison-yard  we 
pushed  it  open,  and  on  closing  itself  after  we  entered,  it 
struck  a  bell,  which  gave  notice  to  the  keeper  of  the  inner 
gate  that  some  one  was  coming.  This  inner  gate,  made  of 
strong  iron  bars,  was  opened  for  us,  and  we  passed  up  the 
steps  of  a  large  stone  building,  through  which  lay  our  pas- 
sage to  the  yard  beyond.  This  building  consists  of  one  large 
central  edifice,  occupied  by  the  family  of  the  warden  and  by 
some  of  the  keepers,  and  two  extensive  wings.  In  these 
wings  the  prisoners  were  formerly  confined,  n  rooms  of 
moderate  size;  many  convicts  however  being  "odged  in  one 
room.  This  was  the  old  system  of  prison  discipline,  of 
which  I  have  already  spoken,  and  the  prisoners  almost  inva- 
riably grew  worse  instead  of  better  under  it.  A  young  man, 
perhaps  just  beginning  a  career  of  vice,  or  overcome  for  the 


EVIDENCES  OF   CHRISTIANITY.  189 

first  time  by  some  strong  temptation,  was  placed  during  the 
long  hours  of  the  night  in  one  of  these  crowded  rooms.  Of 
course  he  grew  worse  by  such  an  exposure.  Those  who  had 
grown  old  hi  sin  instructed  him  hi  all  their  wicked  arts.  He 
became  familiarized  to  infamy  ;  and  even  while  under  sen- 
tence for  one  crime,  often  formed  plans  for  others,  to  be 
executed  as  soon  as  he  should  escape  into  society  again. 
The  consequence  was,  that  these  night  rooms,  hi  the  wings 
of  this  great  building,  were,  as  they  were  often  called,  schools 
of  vice  and  crime. 

The  first  room  we  entered  in  this  edifice  seemed  to  be  a 
sort  of  an  office,  and  a  row  of  swords  and  guns,  which  were 
arranged  there  ready  to  be  used  at  a  moment's  notice,  pro- 
claimed the  intention  of  the  keepers  to  resort  to  the  most 
decided  measures  if  the  prisoners  should  make  any  attempt 
to  escape.  We  passed  through  this  room,  and  one  or  two 
others,  every  narrow  passage  being  guarded  by  a  formidable 
door  of  iron,  which  a  turnkey  opened  and  shut  for  us  as  we 
passed. 

We  entered  a  spacious  and  beautiful  yard  in  the  rear  of 
this  building.  I  say  it  was  beautiful,  because  it  struck  the 
eye  most  pleasantly  by  its  expression  of  neatness  and  indus- 
try. It  was  spacious,  and  extensive  shops  were  arranged 
around  it,  in  which  the  convicts  were  accustomed  to  work ; 
and  upon  the  smooth  and  level  floor,  I  had  almost  said,  of 
the  area  enclosed,  were  many  large  and  beautiful  blocks  of 
hammered  granite,  the  fruits  of  the  prisoners'  industry. 

We  walked  across  the  yard  and  came  to  a  long  stone 
building  one  story  high,  behind  which  rose  another  spacious 
edifice  of  stone.  In  this  last  were  the  prisoners'  cells.  I 
am  not  certain  that  I  shall  be  able  to  convey  to  my  young 
readers  a  very  accurate  idea  of  the  arrangement  and  of  the 
interior  of  these  buildings,  but  I  am  very  desirous  of  doing 
so,  as  it  will  give  them  clearer  ideas  of  what  I  intend  to 
present,  in  regard  to  the  moral  aspects  of  such  an  institu- 


190  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

tion  as  this.  Will  you  not  then  make  an  effort  to  picture 
distinctly  to  your  minds  what  I  am  describing  ? 

The  long  low  building  which  I  have  mentioned,  had  a 
strong  iron  door  in  the  centre,  and  from  that  door  a  passage- 
way extended  across  to  the  great  new  prison  beyond.  On 
one  side  of  this  passage-way  was  a  large  room  appropriated 
to  preparing  food  for  the  prisoners,  and  on  the  other  side 
was  the  chapel.  When  we  came  up  to  the  iron  door  in  the 
front  of  the  building,  we  found  several  gentlemen,  who  had 
come  over  from  Boston  to  act  as  teachers  hi  the  Sabbath- 
school,  waiting  for  admission.  They  were  waiting  until  the 
prisoners  themselves  should  have  passed  into  the  chapel ; 
for  when  we  arrived,  they  were  coming  in  a  long  proces- 
sion, from  their  cells  in  the  rear,  into  this  building,  each 
one  bringing  the  tin  vessel  from  which  he  had  eaten  his 
breakfast,  and  laying  it  upon  a  sort  of  counter  as  he  passed 
on  into  the  chapel.  Y\re  could  see  this  by  looking  through 
an  opening  hi  the  iron  door. 

When  all  the  prisoners  had  gone  into  the  chapel,  the 
outer  door  was  opened  by  a  keeper,  and  we  all  passed  hi ; 
the  heavy  door  was  swung  to  behind  us,  and  its  strong  bolt 
secured.  We  turned  from  the  entry  into  that  end  of  the 
building  which  was  used  as  a  chapel.  There  was  an  aisle 
passing  up  the  centre,  on  each  side  of  which  were  seats 
half  filled  with  the  convicts.  The  chaplain  stood  in  a  pulpit 
at  the  farther  end,  and  on  each  side  of  him  were  the  teach- 
ers, gentlemen  from  Boston,  who  had  come  to  assist  these 
unhappy  men  to  read  and  to  understand  the  word  of  God. 

It  was  a  most  delightful  May  morning,  and  the  whole 
aspect  of  the  room,  as  I  looked  over  it  from  my  stand  near 
the  chaplain,  was  that  of  cheerfulness  and  happiness,  not  of 
gloom.  The  sun  beamed  in  brightly  at  the  windows,  and 
the  walls  of  the  room  of  the  purest  white,  the  neat  benches, 
and  the  nicely  sanded  floor,  gave  a  most  pleasant  aspect  to 
the  whole. 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  191 

The  congregation  presented  a  singular  and  striking  ap- 
pearance. Had  it  not  been  for  their  dress,  I  might  have 
forgotten  that  I  was  in  a  prison.  But  they  were  all  dressed 
in  coarse  clothes  of  two  colors,  one  side  of  the  body  being 
red,  and  the  other  of  some  different  hue.  This  is  the  uni- 
form of  crime.  The  object  of  it  is,  I  suppose,  not  to  mor- 
tify them  with  a  perpetual  badge  of  disgrace,  but  to  expos* 
any  one  who  should  by  any  means  escape,  to  immediate, 
detection  by  the  inhabitants  of  the  country  around. 

"Is  it  possible,"  thought  I,  as  I  looked  over  this  most 
interesting  assembly,  "  that  all  these  men  have  come  volun 
tarily  this  morning  to  read  and  study  the  word  of  God? 
Yes,  that  was  the  fact.     This  exercise  was  entirely  volun 
tary  ;  and  out  of  two  or  three  hundred  who  had  been  con- 
demned for  crime,  about  one  half  were  accustomed  to  come 
voluntarily  on  Sabbath  morning  to  study  the  book  which 
proclaims  from  heaven  free  forgiveness  of  every  sin. 

The  chaplain  opened  the  school  with  prayer.  He  then 
explained  to  the  teachers  that  the  plan  to  be  pursued  was 
simply  to  hear  the  prisoners  read  the  Bible,  and  explain  its 
contents  to  them.  He  desired  them  to  confine  their  conver- 
sation strictly  to  the  business  in  hand,  and  requested  the 
prisoners  not  to  ask,  and  the  teachers  not  to .  answer  any 
questions  relating  to  other  subjects.  He  then  distributed 
the  teachers  around  the  room,  giving  each  one  a  small  class. 
Three  convicts  fell  to  my  charge. 

I  opened  the  New  Testament,  and  let  them  read  in  rota 
tion ;  and  more  apparently  humble  and  docile  students  of 
the  Bible  I  never  saw.  They  read  slowly  and  with  hesita- 
tion, and  I  thought  at  first,  with  a  little  embarrassment ; 
this  however  soon  passed  away,  and  it  was  most  interesting 
to  watch  the  eager  expression  upon  their  countenances  as 
the  various  truths  which  were  such  glad  tidings  to  them 
came  to  view.  We  came  almost  accidentally  to  the  para- 
bles of  the  one  sheep  and  the  one  piece  of  money  which 


192  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

was  lost,  Luke  15,  and  it  seemed  as  if  the  whole  chaptei 
was  written  expressly  for  prisoners. 

One  of  these  convicts,  after  expressing  a  strong  interest 
in  these  parables,  said  that  the  Bible  appeared  like  a  very  dif- 
ferent book  to  hirn  now,  from  what  it  did  in  former  times. 

"  How  did  it  formerly  appear  to  you?"  asked  I. 

"  Oh,  I  used  to  despise  it.  I  used  to  wonder  why  so  much 
was  made  of  the  Bible.  It  seemed  to  me  that  I  could  write 
as  good  a  book  myself." 

"  Well,  are  your  views  of  it  changed  now  ?" 

"  0  yes,"  said  he,  "  I  am  now  fully  persuaded  it  is  the 
word  of  God." 

"  What  caused  you  to  disbelieve  formerly ;  was  it  the 
influence  of  bad  company?" 

"  Why,  sir,  to  be  frank,  it  was  ignorance.  I  had  not 
studied  it.  I  had  read  it  a  little  here  and  there,  but  not 
attentively,  or  with  a  right  spirit." 

"  What  led  you  to  change  your  views  of  it  ?" 

"  I  did  not  change  my  views  until  I  came  to  this  institu- 
tion. I  had  some  days  of  solitary  confinement  when  I  first 
came,  with  no  book  but  the  Bible ;  and  when  I  first  began 
to  reflect,  I  recollected  that  a  Christian  family  whom  I 
once  lived  with,  seemed  to  enjoy  more  real,  substantial 
happiness  than  any  other  persons  I  ever  saw ;  and  this  led 
me  to  think  there  might  possibly  be  something  in  religion. 
So  I  thought  I  would  examine  the  Bible  in  earnest,  and  I 
found  it  a  very  different  book  from  what  I  had  supposed.  I 
took  a  very  strong  interest  in  it,  and  at  last  a  minister  preach- 
ed a  sermon  here  from  the  text,  '  What  shall  I  do  to  inherit 
eternal  life?'  and  that,  I  hope,  led  me  to  the  Saviour.  I  hop© 
and  trust  that  I  have  really  given  my  heart  to  God." 

I  told  him  that  what  he  said  gave  me  great  pleasure, 
and  that  I  hoped  he  would  persevere  m  Christian  duty,  and 
find  the  Bible  a  source  of  happiness  to  him  as  long  as  he 
should  live. 


£ 


JJKIV:      nT7 

EVIDENCES  OF  CHP.ISTIANII Y.  193 

"  "When  I  first  came  to  this  institution,  he  replied,  "I 
thought  it  was  rather  a  hard  case  to  be  shut  up  here  so 
long.  My  time  is,  however,  now  almost  out.  In  a  few 
weeks  I  shall  go  away  ;  but  if  I  have  really  been  led  to  see 
and  forsake  my  sins,  I  shall  never  have  any  reason  to  regret 
coming  here.1' 

The  chaplain  about  this  time  gave  notice  that  it  was 
time  for  the  services  to  be  closed,  and  I  could  not  converse 
with  my  other  scholars  much.  One  of  them  told  me,  how- 
ever, that  he  had  been  brought  up  by  pious  parents,  and 
had  read  the  Bible  when  he  was  a  child.  "  It  was,  how- 
ever," said  he,  "only  to  please  my  parents.  I  gave  no 
heed  to  it.  I  have  found  it,  since  I  came  to  this  institu- 
tion, a  very  different  book." 

I  afterwards  learned  that  there  was  as  much  reason  as, 
under  the  circumstances,  there  could  be,  to  hope  that  all 
three  of  these  criminals  had  really  repented  of  sin  and  ob- 
tained peace  with  God,  and  that  they  would  return  to  society 
to  be  useful  and  happy  while  they  live  and  be  admitted  to 
heaven  when  they  die. 

Such  cases  as  these  too  are  becoming  very  numerous  in 
prisons  where  the  convicts  are  separated  from  each  other, 
and  brought  under  the  influence  of  the  word  of  God.  Since 
this  plan  has  been  adopted  in  this  very  prison,  the  results 
have  been  most  decisive.  The  number  of  prisoners,  and 
especially  of  recommitments,  is  very  much  reduced.  The 
whole  number  of  convicts,  which  was  formerly  375,  has 
been  reduced  under  the  operation  of  this  system  to  225,  and 
is  now  constantly  decreasing. 

But  I  must  proceed  with  the  description  of  my  visit. 
At  the  close  of  the  Sabbath-school,  the  convicts  who  had 
attended  it  marched  out,  and  presently  returned  with  all  the 
other  prisoners  in  a  long  procession,  to  attend  public  wor- 
ship ;  they  filled  the  chapel.  The  preacher  addressed  them 
on  the  subject  of  temperance ;  and  as  he  explained  to  them 

Y.  Christian,  9 


194  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

the  nature  of  ardent  spirit,  and  the  consequences  of  its  use, 
they  listened  with  the  most  eager  and  uninterrupted  atten- 
tion. Each  had  his  Bible  under  his  arm — his  only  com- 
panion in  his  solitary  cell — and  it  was  evident,  I  thought, 
from  the  countenances  of  the  whole  assembly,  that  in  the 
hour  of  stillness  and  solitude  it  had  been  at  work  upon  the 
conscience  of  many  a  hardened  sinner  there.  It  seemed 
impossible  for  a  man  to  look  upon  that  assembly,  under 
standing  their  circumstances,  and  knowing  how  exclusively 
the  Bible  had  been  used  as  the  means  of  restoring  them  to 
moral  health,  and  how  successful  it  had  been,  and  yet  doubt 
whether  the  book  was  really  from  God. 

After  the  meeting  was  closed  the  prisoners  marched  by 
divisions  in  regular  order,  each  under  the  care  of  a  keeper, 
back  to  the  great  building  hi  the  rear,  which  contained 
their  cells.  As  they  passed  through  the  entry,  each  one 
took  from  the  place  where  he  had  left  it,  the  tin  vessel 
now  containing  his  evening  meal,  and  they  marched  in 
long  procession  to  their  silent  and  solitary  lodgings.  We 
followed  them  into  the  building.  Its  construction  is  pecu- 
liar ;  and  as  it  is  similar  to  those  now  almost  universally 
built  for  prisoners,  I  shall  describe  it. 

It  contains  a  building  within  a  building — the  outer  one 
being  a  mere  shell,  consisting  of  walls  and  a  roof,  with  rows 
of  narrow,  grated  windows  in  the  sides.  The  inner  building 
is  distinct  and  independent,  with  a  passage  several  feet  wide 
all  around  between  it  and  the  outer  walls.  This  inner 
building  is  simply  a  block  of  cells,  four  or  five  stories  high, 
arranged  back  to  back,  so  that  the  doors  open  on  each  side  into 
the  passage-way  I  have  already  described.  The  doors,  how- 
ever, of  the  lower  story  only  can  be  entered  from  the  floor 
of  the  passage-way  itself,  and  to  gain  access  to  the  others, 
long  narrow  galleries,  supported  by  iron  pillars,  project  from 
each  story.     A  staircase  at  one  end  leads  to  these. 

There  were  no  windows  to  the  cells,  except  a  grated 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  195 

opening  in  the  narrow  but  heavy  iron  door  ;  and  this,  it  will 
be  perceived,  did  not  furnish  an  access  to  the  open  air,  for  the 
outer  building  entirely  enclosed  the  inner  like  a  case.  Suf- 
ficient light,  however,  found  its  way  through  the  outer  win- 
dows, and  thence  through  the  grated  door,  to  cheer  the 
prisoner  a  little  in  his  solitude,  and  to  allow  him  to  read  the 
pages  of  the  word  of  God. 

When  we  came  into  the  passage-way  below,  the  trams 
of  prisoners  were  passing  along  the  galleries,  and  entering, 
one  after  another,  their  respective  cells.  Each  one  closed 
after  him  the  massive  door,  and  there  was  something  pecu- 
liarly solemn  and  impressive  in  the  heavy  sound,  produced 
in  regular  succession,  as  door  after  door  closed  upon  the  un- 
fortunate inmates.  Each  keeper  passed  along  after  the  pris- 
oners of  his  division  had  entered  their  cells,  and  locked  them 
in ;  and  after  the  last  party-colored  dress  had  disappeared,  and 
the  last  bolt  sounded  to  its  place,  the  keepers  one  after  an- 
other returned,  and  all  was  silence  and  apparent  solitude. 

Though  it  was  now  the  middle  of  a  bright  May  after- 
noon, it  was  but  twilight  within  these  walls — the  twilight  of  a 
prison — and  so  still,  that  one  could  hardly  realize  that  within 
the  sound  of  his  voice  more  than  two  hundred  criminals  were 
confined.  And  yet,  they  were  within  the  sound  of  one  voice ; 
for  the  construction  of  these  buildings  is  such,  that  every 
prisoner  can  hear  the  chaplain  when  conducting  religious 
services  in  the  passage-way.  He  stands  there,  not  seeing  an 
individual  whom  he  addresses — nothing  before  him  but  the 
cold,  repulsive  aspect  of  the  granite  walls  and  floor  and  pil- 
lars, doors  and  locks  of  iron — and  reads  the  chapter,  and 
offers  the  evening  prayer  in  the  hearing  of  hundreds ;  and 
each  prisoner,  alone  in  his  cell,  seated  upon  his  little  bench, 
hears  through  the  grated  window  the  voice  of  one  unseen, 
explaining  to  him  the  word  of  God,  or  guiding  him  in  his 
supplications  for  the  forgiveness  of  his  sins,  and  preparation 
for  heaven. 


196  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

As  we  stood  contemplating  this  scene,  one  of  the  officers 
of  the  prison  standing  there,  said  to  my  companion, 

"How  different  this  is  from  what  we  used  to  see  and 
hear  in  the  old  prison." 

"Has  there  been,"  asked  I,  "'a  very  decided  change 
in  the  aspect  of  the  prisoners  since  their  removal  to  this 
building?" 

"  0  yes,"  said  he,  "  every  thing  is  changed.  Why,  when 
they  occupied  the  old  building,  and  were  locked  up  several 
together  in  a  room,  there  was  nothing  but  cursing  and  swear- 
ing,  and  riot,  and  quarrelling,  and  blasphemy,  to  be  heard  all 
night.  How  they  would  rave  against  religion  and  the  Bible 
and  ministers.  Nothing  would  have  tempted  me  to  have 
staid  in  the  prison,  if  that  state  of  things  had  continued. 
Now  it  is  a  quiet  and  peaceful  family." 

A\  e  passed  out  at  last.  A  keeper,  with  a  sword  at  his 
side  and  a  pistol  at  his  belt,  closed  and  locked  the  door  after 
us,  and  we  passed  through  the  yard,  and  through  the  great 
edifice  which  I  first  described,  out  beyond  the  prison  walls, 
and  returned  to  our  homes. 

Now,  if  there  was  any  one  thing  which  stood  forth  to 
view  in  all  this  scene  more  distinctly  and  vividly  than  all 
the  rest,  it  was,  that  these  effects  were  the  work  of  the  Bible. 
The  very  essence  of  the  whole  system  is  simply  to  cut  ofl 
the  bad  influences  which  would  otherwise  gain  access  to  the 
prisoner,  and  lay  before  him  the  Bible.  This  was  done  with 
kindness  and  sympathy  indeed,  but  still  the  word  of  God 
was  most  evidently  the  remedy  which  was  applied.  The 
prisoners  came  to  their  place  of  worship  with  their  Bibles 
in  their  hands — the  teachers  in  the  Sabbath-school  confined 
their  efforts  to  reading  and  explaining  the  sacred  book — and 
it  was  affecting  to  observe,  that  as  they  went  to  their  soli- 
tary cells,  they  found  there  the  word  of  God  for  their  only 
companion.  So  unquestionable  is  the  moral  power  of  this 
book,  that  the  very  authorities  of  the  state,  actuated  by  a 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  197 

desire  io  save  the  community  from  the  injuries  of  wicked 
men,  place  a  Bible,  at  the  public  expense,  in  the  cell  of 
every  convict  committed  for  crime. 

Those  little  cells,  so  small  that  the  narrow  bed,  when 
let  down  at  night,  leaves  the  prisoner  scarcely  room  to 
stand — destitute  of  almost  eVery  comfort,  and  showing,  by 
their  whole  aspect,  that  their  design  is  to  connect  the  most 
gloomy  associations  possible  with  the  idea  of  crime — every 
one  of  those  narrow  and  naked  cells  must  have  its  Bible. 
Every  legislator  knows  that  that  is  the  book  to  call  back 
the  guilty  criminal  from  his  sins.  And  though  men  may  in 
speculation  deny  its  authority  and  question  its  influence  is 
practice,  when  they  wish  to  awaken  conscience  in  the  aban- 
doned, and  to  recall  them  so  far  at  least  to  duty  that  society 
may  be  safe  from  their  crimes,  they  are  unanimous  in  invok- 
ing its  aid. 

But  I  must  return  to  the  two  convicts'  stories.  I  did 
not  intend  to  have  digressed  so  far  from  them.  My  readers 
are  requested  to  recall  those  narratives  to  mmd,  for  I  wish 
to  analyze  them  a  little,  that  I  may  present  more  distinctly 
the  nature  of  the  process  by  which  convalescence  and  ulti- 
mate health  return  to  a  sin-sick  soul ;  for  I  wish  to  consider 
these  not  in  the  light  of  detached  and  separate  instances,  but 
as  fair  specimens  of  cases  which  are  constantly  occurring  by 
tens  of  thousands  in  Christian  lands. 

I  should  like  to  have  you  notice  the  following  points, 
which  are  brought  to  view  by  those  narratives. 

1.  The  Bible  was  the  means  of  the  change.  One  of 
the  convicts  said  he  had  no  proper  views  of  the  Scriptures 
till  he  came  to  the  prison ;  the  other  could  not  read  them  at 
all ;  and  it  was  plainly  by  means  of  this  book  that  they  were 
brought  to  understand  their  true  characters.  So,  at  Charles- 
town,  the  whole  plan  of  moral  influence  consisted  in  bring- 
ing, in  a  kind  and  sympathizing  manner,  the  truths  of  the 


198  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

word  of  God  to  those  minds.  I  was  told  by  one  of  the  teach- 
ers who  was  present  at  the  time  of  my  visit,  that  he  had  in 
his  class  a  convict  who  had  been  repeatedly  imprisoned,  hav- 
ing been  confined  once  or  twice  in  the  old  building.  "  And," 
said  he,  "  it  only  made  me  worse.  But  now  there  is  a  new 
state  of  things.  When  I  came  to  this  prison,  I  found  nothing 
but  my  Bible ;  and  I  believe  it  has  made  me  a  new  man." 
The  gentleman  who  had  taught  that  class  said,  that  he  gave 
every  evidence  which  could  be  given  in  so  short  a  time,  of 
being  a  humbled,  renewed  man. 

2.  The  Bible  leads  men  to  see  that  their  sins  are 
against  God.  This  you  will  perceive  to  be  the  case,  from 
a  review  of  the  convicts'  stories.  And  this  is  one  of  the 
great  peculiarities  of  the  Scriptures.  They  lead  us  to  see  that 
we  owe  obligations  to  our  Maker — a  truth  that  is  always 
neglected  or  forgotten  till  the  Bible  brings  it  to  view. 

But  what  is  the  meaning  of  our  sins  being  against  God  ? 
I  once  knew  a  boy  so  abandoned  to  evil  passions,  and  so 
utterly  destitute  of  moral  principle,  that  he  set  fire  to  his 
mother's  house  in  a  fit  of  anger  with  her  for  some  reproof 
or  punishment.  I  do  not  know  whether  he  intended  to  burn 
it  entirely,  or  whether -he  expected  that  the  fire  would  be 
extinguished,  and  he  should  thus  only  frighten  his  mother. 
A  great  deal  of  injury  was  in  fact  done  by  the  fire,  which 
was  however  at  last  extinguished.  Now,  the  boy  very  prob- 
ably supposed  this  offence  was  against  his  mother  alone. 
He  knew  he  was  responsible  to  her  authority,  and  thought 
of  nothing  more. 

How  surprised,  then,  would  he  be,  if  some  friend  of  his, 
after  he  had  done  this,  should  converse  with  him  as  follows : 
•  "  Do  you  know  what  you  have  done  ?" 

"  Yes,  I  set  mother's  house  on  fire." 

"  And  what  do  you  expect  will  be  the  consequence  ?" 

"  Why,  perhaps  she  will  punish  me  ;  but  I  don't  care  for 
that." 


EVIDENCES   OF  CHRISTIANITY.  199 

11 1  think  you  will  find  that  that  is  not  the  worst  of  it." 

"  What  is  the  worst  of  it  ?" 

"Why,  you  have  broken  the  law  of  the  land,  and  I  ex- 
pect every  hour  that  the  officers  will  be  after  you  to  take 
vou  up." 

"  The  officers !"  says  the  boy,  astonished  and  alarmed ; 
"  I  didn't  know  any  thing  about  the  law  of  the  land." 

"  There  is  a  law  of  the  land,  you  will  find,  and  you  have 
broken  it,  and  they  will  have  you  tried  and  put  hi  the  state- 
prison  for  it." 

At  this,  the  boy  would  perhaps  pause  and  turn  pale, 
and  his  next  word  would  probably  either  be,  "I  don't  be- 
lieve it,"  or  else,  "What  shall  I  do?"  Perhaps  he  would 
attempt  to  excuse  himself  by  saying, 

"  I  did  not  know  that  it  was  against  any  law — I  only 
did  it  to  plague  my  mother." 

"  That  makes  no  difference,"  his  friend  would  reply ;  "  it 
will  not  help  you  at  all.  The  law  of  every  community  is, 
and  ought  to  be,  very  decided  against  incendiaries,  because, 
as  you  well  know,  when  you  set  fire  to  your  house,  you  en- 
dangered the  others  near,  and  hi  fact  the  whole  village.  As 
to  your  not  knowing  that  it  was  against  the  law,  that  makes 
no  difference ;  you  knew  that  it  zvas  wrong." 

I  do  not  know  whether  this  boy  learned  that  he  had 
broken  the  law,  and  was  in  great  danger  of  punishment,  by 
any  such  conversation  as  the  above.  I  know,  however,  that 
he  learned  it  in  some  way,  and  he  fled  ;  he  escaped  to  a 
distant  city,  but  the  officers  found  him  there  ;  and  I  saw 
him  afterwards  confined  in  his  cell. 

Now,  when  men  sin  hi  this  world,  they  almost  always 
forget  the  very  important  circumstance,  that  they  are  sin- 
ning against  God.  They  look  upon  their  offences  as  com- 
mitted solely  against  their  fellow-men  ;  they  feel  sometimes 
a  little  compunction  in  regard  to  those  few  cases  where  their 
conduct  has  injured  their  fellows  ;  they  never  consider  these 


200  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

as  offences  against  a  far  higher  law — and  as  to  all  their 
other  conduct,  they  feel  entirely  at  ease  in  regard  to  it. 

Now,  the  Bible  comes  in  in  such  cases ;  and  where  its 
voice  is  heeded,  it  holds  with  men  a  conversation  much  like 
that  which  I  have  described  between  the  boy  and  his  friend. 

"Do  you  know,"  it  says  to  one  who  has  been  living 
an  irreligious  life  for  many  years,  "  what  you  have  been 
doing?" 

"  Yes,"  he  replies,  "  I  have  very  often  done  wrong.  I 
have  sometimes  been  idle,  and  sometimes  a  little  passionate  ; 
but  then  I  have  endeavored  to  make  up  for  lost  time  by  sub- 
sequent industry,  and  I  have  always  repaired  all  the  injuries 
of  every  kind  that  I  have  done  to  others.  On  the  whole,  I 
have  been  a  good  neighbor  and  an  honest  man  ;  I  have  been 
kind  in  my  family,  and  upright  as  a  citizen." 

"  Ah,"  says  the  Bible,  "  do  you  not  know  that  there  is  a 
God,  and  that  by  utterly  neglecting  him,  you  have  been  all 
the  time  unceasingly  breaking  his  laiv  ?  You  have  been 
living  for  yourself,  detached  and  separate  from  all  around 
you,  except  so  far  as  your  interests  or  instinctive  feelings  have 
formed  a  frail  tie.  VvThat  a  divided  and  miserable  commu- 
nity would  be  the  result,  if  all  God's  creatures  were  to  act 
upon  the  same  principle!" 

"  Besides,"  continues  the  word  of  God,  "the  sins  which 
you  acknowledge  you  have  committed,  and  which  you  seem 
to  consider  as  chiefly  against  men,  are  in  a  far  higher  sense 
against  God.  They  are  violations  of  his  law,  and  he  has 
annexed  a  most  awful  penalty  to  such  transgressions.  In 
fact,  it  is  possible  that  some  of  his  officers  are  now  sent  to 
summon  you  to  trial  and  condemnation  for  your  sins." 

Thus  men  are  led  to  see  by  the  Bible  what  law  they 
have  broken,  and  what  punishment  they  have  to  fear.  The 
convict  whose  conversation  I  have  above  given,  saw,  as  he 
expresses  it,  that  all  his  sins  had  been  "against  God." 

3.  The  Bible  makes  men  feel  their  guilt.     Un  doubt* 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  201 

edly  many  of  my  readers  will  go  over  the  explanation  I  have 
just  given  of  our  connection  with  God,  and  of  the  fact  that 
all  our  sins  are  against  him,  very  carelessly.  I  do  not  mean, 
that  they  will  not  be  interested  in  the  mere  reading  :  I  mean, 
that  they  will  not  realize  the  truth,  in  its  application  to  them- 
selves. Nothing  is  more  common  than  for  persons  to  see 
and  to  acknowledge  the  truths  I  have  been  presenting,  with- 
out feeling  any  compunction  for  their  guilt ;  but  the  Bible 
arouses  conscience  ;  it  is  "  quick  and  powerful,  sharper  than 
any  two-edged  sword,  piercing  even  to  the  dividing  asunder 
of  the  soul  and  spirit." 

It  is  one  of  the  most  remarkable  properties  of  the  human 
mind,  that  a  consciousness  of  guilt  may  remain  a  long  time 
dormant  in  it — producing  no  uneasiness  and  no  suffering ; 
and  yet,  after  the  lapse  of  years,  it  will  burst  forth  with 
most  terrific  power,  and  drive  the  victim  of  it  to  actual  de- 
spair. This  has  often  been  the  case.  A  man  who  has  com- 
mitted sin,  is  like  one  bitten  by  a  mad  dog.  The  momentary 
pain  is  slight — the  wound  soon  heals  ;  it  may  keep  up  from 
time  to  time  a  slight  irritation,  just  enough  to  remind  him 
occasionally  of  the  occurrence  ;  but  ordinarily  it  is  forgotten, 
and  he  goes  on  with  his  daily  amusements  and  pleasures, 
entirely  unconscious  of  danger. 

But  though  the  wound  is  healed,  the  dreadful  infection 
which  it  has  admitted  to  his  system  is  circulating  insidiously 
there.  The  poison  glides  imperceptibly  along  his  veins  and 
arteries  for  weeks,  months,  years.  It  does  not  mar  his  en- 
joyments or  disturb  his  repose  ;  but  still  the  dreadful  enemy, 
though  slumbering,  is  there.  At  last,  in  some  unexpected 
hour,  it  rises  upon  him  in  all  its  strength,  and  overwhelms 
and  conquers  him  entirely.  It  brings  agony  to  his  body  and 
indescribable  horror  to  his  soul,  and  hurries  him  through  furi  ■ 
ous  paroxysms  of  madness  and  despair  to  inevitable  death. 

And  it  is  just  so  with  sin.     A  murderer,  for  example, 

will  often  slumber  ten,   twenty,  or  thirty  years  over  his 

9* 


202  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

crime.  The  knowledge  of  it  will  be  in  his  heart,  like  a 
lurking  poison,  during  all  that  time.  He  will  recollect  it 
without  anxiety  or  compunction,  and  look  forward  to  the 
future  without  alarm.  At  last,  however,  some  circum- 
stance, often  apparently  trifling,  will  awaken  him  ;  he  will 
begin  to  feel  his  guilt ;  conscience  will  suddenly  rise  upon 
him  like  an  armed  man,  and  overwhelm  him  with  all  the 
horrors  of  remorse  and  despair.  Perhaps,  if  one  had  tried  a 
few  weeks  before  to  make  him  feel  his  guilt,  it  would  have 
been  vain,  he  was  so  utterly  hardened  in  it — so  dead  hi  tres- 
passes and  sins  ;  but  now,  you  will  find  it  far  more  difficult 
to  allav  or  to  mitigate  the  storm  which  has,  perhaps  spon- 
taneously, arisen. 

Every  person,  therefore,  who  commits  sin,  takes  a  viper 
into  his  bosom — a  viper  which  may  delay  stinging  him  for 
many  years,  but  it  will  sting  him  at  last,  unless  it  is  re- 
moved ;  he  is  unaware  of  the  miser}'  which  awaits  him,  but 
it  must  come  notwithstanding :  and  the  wonder  is,  that  the 
sense  of  guilt  will  remain  so  entirely  dormant  as  it  often  does, 
so  that  no  warning,  no  expostulation,  no  remonstrance  will 
disturb  the  death-like  repose ;  and  yet,  at  last  the  volcano 
will  often  burst  forth  spontaneously,  or  from  some  apparently 
trilling  cause,  and  overwhelm  the  sinner  in  suffering. 

Now  we  certainly  should  not  wish  that  this  suffering 
should  come  upon  any  individual,  were  it  not  that  in  a  vast 
multitude  of  cases  it  leads  him  to  repent  of  and  to  forsake  his 
sins.  Remorse  is  not  penitence  it  is  true,  but  it  very  fre- 
quently leads  to  it.  The  truths  of  the  Bible  are  not  de- 
signed to  produce  a  sorrow  that  worketh  death,  but,  by  the 
power  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  to  awaken  such  a  sense  of  guilt  as 
shall  lead  to  unfeigned  repentance  and  eternal  life. 

4.  The  Bible  leads  men  to  a  Saviour.  Men  everywhere 
have  the  impression  that  penitence  cannot  remove  and  expi- 
ate guilt.  Whenever  we  do  wrong,  there  is  implanted,  as  it 
were  in  the  very  soul,  a  fearful  looking  forward  to  punish 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  203 

ment  to  come  in  consequence  of  it.  We  know  that  no  gov- 
ernment can  be  efficiently  maintained  where  its  settled,  reg- 
ular plan  is  to. forgive  always  upon  confession.  Now  it  is 
found  by  universal  experience,  and  the  cases  I  have  narrated 
happily  illustrate  this,  that  when  men  are  really  brought  to 
feel  their  sins  against  God,  they  cannot  be  quieted  by  any 
general  assurances  that  God  is  merciful.  They  know  he  is 
merciful,  but  then  they  know  he  is  just.  They  know  he  is 
the  great  moral  Governor  of  the  universe  ;  and  the  youngest 
child,  or  the  most  ignorant  savage,  has  an  instinct,  I  might 
almost  call  it,  which  so  assures  him  of  the  necessity  of  a 
retribution  that  he  cannot  rest — after  a  repeated  disobedi- 
ence— in  the  hope  that  his  penitence  alone  will  secure  his 
pardon.  Hence,  in  many  countries  they  have  various  ways 
of  doing  penance,  that  is,  inflicting  severe  voluntary  suffer- 
ing upon  themselves  by  way  of  retribution  for  their  sins. 
Now  when  men,  under  such  circumstances,  hear  that  a 
Saviour  has  died  for  sinners,  it  brings  relief.  It  is  very  often 
the  case  that  there  is  not  a  very  clear  idea  of  the  way  in 
which  his  sufferings  are  of  avail  in  opening  the  way  for  par- 
don ;  in  fact,  it  is  not  absolutely  necessary  that  there  should 
be  very  clear  ideas  on  this  subject.  The  mind,  however 
darkened  and  ignorant,  is  capable  of  seeing  that  these  suffer- 
ings may  in  some  way  stop  the  evil  consequences  of  its  sins, 
and  open  the  way  for  pardon,  and  yet  not  fully  understand 
in  all  their  detail  the  various  moral  influences  which  the 
crucifixion  of  the  Son  of  God  is  calculated  to  produce. 

My  reader,  do  you  feel  a  secret,  but  continual  burden 
from  a  sense  of  your  sins  ?  Make  a  full  trial  of  the  experi- 
ment of  coming  and  asking  forgiveness  in  the  Saviour's  name, 
and  see  if  it  does  not  bring  relief. 

I  suppose  that  most  of  my  readers  remember  the  story  of 
Itegulus.  The  ancient  cities  of  Rome  and  Carthage  stood 
opposite  to  each  other,  across  the  Mediterranean  sea.  As 
these  two  cities  grew  up  to  power  and  distinction  nearly 


204  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

together,  they  were  the  rivals  and  enemies  of  each  other. 
There  was  many  a  hard  fought  battle  between  their  armies 
and  their  fleets. 

At  last  Regulus,  a  celebrated  Roman  general,  was  sent 
across  the  sea  to  carry  the  war  if  possible  to  the  very  gates 
of  Carthage.  He  was  at  first  very  successful,  and  took 
many  prisoners  and  sent  them  to  Rome.  At  length,  how- 
ever, the  scale  was  turned,  the  Roman  army  was  conquered, 
and  Regulus  himself  was  captured  and  thrown  into  a  Car- 
thaginian prison. 

After  some  time,  however,  had  elapsed,  the  Carthagini- 
ans, foreseeing  that  the  Roman  power  would  in  the  end 
overwhelm  their  own,  concluded  to  send  an  embassy  to  Rome 
to  offer  peace.  They  proposed  to  Regulus  to  go  on  this 
embassy.  They  intrusted  him  with  the  commission,  saying 
to  him,  "  "We  wish  you  would  go  to  Rome  and  propose  to 
your  countrymen  to  make  peace  with  us,  and  endeavor  to 
persuade  them  to  comply.  If  you  do  not  succeed,  however, 
we  expect  you  to  return  to  us  again  as  our  lawful  prisoner. 
We  shall  confide  in  your  word." 

Regulus  accepted  the  trust.  He  set  off  to  Rome,  prom- 
ising to  return  to  Carthage  if  the  Romans  should  not  accede 
to  the  peace.  He  sailed  across  the  sea  and  up  the  Tiber, 
and  was  soon  approaching  the  gates  of  the  great  city.  He 
had  determined,  however,  to  do  all  in  his  power  to  prevent  a 
peace,  knowing  that  it  would  not  be  for  the  interest  of  his 
country  to  make  one.  He  understood,  therefore,  that  he 
was  going  to  his  native  city  only  to  communicate  his  mes- 
sage, and  then  to  return  to  imprisonment,  torture,  and  death, 
at  Carthage. 

His  wife  came  out  of  the  gates  to  meet  him,  rejoicing  in 
his  return.  He  received  her  dejected,  silent,  and  sad.  "  I 
am  a  Carthaginian  prisoner  still,"  said  he,  "  and  must  soon 
return  to  my  chains." 

He  refused  to  enter  the  city.     He  had  indeed  a  message 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  205 

for  the  senate,  but  the  Roman  senate  was  not  accustomed  to 
admit  foreigners  to  their  sessions  within  the  city.  He  sent 
them  word,  therefore,  that  Regulus,  no  longer  a  Roman  gen- 
eral, but  a  Carthaginian  prisoner,  was  the  bearer  of  a  mes- 
sage to  them,  and  wished  them  to  hold,  as  usual,  a  meeting 
without  the  gates  for  the  purpose  of  receiving  it. 

The  senate  came.  They  heard  the  proposal  which  the 
Carthaginians  sent,  and  the  arguments  of  Regulus  against 
it.  The  arguments  prevailed.  They  decided  against  peace, 
and  Regulus  began  to  speak  of  his  return. 

"  Return !"  said  his  friends  and  the  senators  and  all  the 
people  of  Rome  ;  "  you  are  under  no  obligation  to  return  to 
Carthage." 

"I  promised  to  return,"  said  Regulus,  "and  I  must 
keep  my  word.  I  am  well  aware  that  the  disappointed  and 
exasperated  Carthaginians  will  inflict  upon  me  cruel  tor- 
tures,  but  I  am  their  prisoner  still,  and  I  must  keep  my 
word." 

The  Romans  did  all  in  their  power  to  persuade  Regulus 
that  a  promise  extorted  under  such  circumstances  was  not 
binding,  and  that  he  could  be  under  no  obligations  to  return. 
But  all  was  vain.  He  bade  the  senate  and  his  countrymen 
and'  his  wife  farewell,  and  was  soon  sailing  back  to  the  land 
of  his  enemies.  The  Carthaginians  were  enraged  at  the 
result  of  his  mission.  They  put  him  to  death  by  the  most 
cruel  tortures. 

When  the  tidings  of  his  death  came  back  to  Rome,  the 
senate  and  the  people,  who  had  already  been  much  impress- 
ed by  the  patriotism  of  Regulus  and  his  firm  adherence  to 
his  word,  were  overwhelmed  with  admiration  and  gratitude. 
This  feeling  was  mixed  too  with  a  strong  desire  of  revenge 
upon  the  Carthaginians,  and  a  decree  was  passed,  giving  up 
the  Carthaginian  prisoners  then  in  their  hands  to  Marcia 
the  wife  of  Regulus,  to  be  disposed  of  as  she  might  desire. 
She  most  unjustly  and  cruelly  ordered  them  all  to  be  put  to 


206  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

death  by  the  same  sufferings  which  her  lamented  husband 
had  endured. 

My  story,  thus  far,  is  substantially  true.  The  dialogue 
I  have  given  is  intended  to  exhibit  the  substance  of  what 
was  said,  not  the  exact  words.  The  facts,  however,  are  cor- 
rectly stated.     The  whole  occurrence  is  matter  of  history. 

In  order,  however,  to  make  the  use  of  this  story  which  I 
have  intended,  I  must  now  go  on  in  fiction.  I  will  suppose 
that  Marcia,  instead  of  desiring  to  gratify  a  revengeful  spirit 
by  destroying  the  lives  of  the  innocent  prisoners  at  Rome,  in 
retaliation  for  the  murder  of  her  husband,  had  been  actuated 
by  a  nobler  spirit,  and  had  sent  such  a  message  as  this  to 
the  Roman  senate,  in  reply  to  their  proposal  to  her  : 

"  I  do  not  wish  for  revenge.  It  will  do  no  good,  either 
to  Regulus  who  is  dead,  or  to  his  unhappy  widow  who  sur- 
vives, to  torture  or  to  destroy  the  miserable  captives  in  our 
hands.  Dispose  of  them  as  the  good  of  the  state  requires. 
If  you  think,  however,  that  any  thing  is  due  from  the 
commonwealth  to  the  memory  of  Regulus  or  to  Ins  sur- 
viving friends,  let  it  be  paid  in  happiness,  not  in  suffering. 
There  are  in  the  public  prisons  many  miserable  convicts 
condemned  for  their  crimes ;  let  them  be  forgiven  for  Reg- 

3  O  O 

ulus'  sake,  if  they  will  acknowledge  their  crimes  and  return 
to  their  duty." 

A  Roman  senate  would  have  granted  undoubtedly  such 
a  request  as  this,  if  made  under  such  circumstances  as  I 
have  described.  Let  us  suppose  they  had  done  so,  and  that 
the  prison  doors  had  been  opened,  and  the  offers  of  pardon 
had  been  circulated  among  the  convicts  there. 

Now  I  wish  my  reader  to  bear  in  mind,  that  I  am  not 
intending  here  to  offer  an  illustration  of  the  way  in  which 
our  salvation  is  effected  by  the  sufferings  of  the  Son  of  God ; 
no  analogy  drawn  from  any  earthly  transactions,  can  fully 
illustrate  the  way  in  which  the  Lamb  of  God  takes  away 
the  sins  of  the  world.     My  object  is  to  illustrate  the  spirit 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  207 

ivith  which  the  offer  of  mercy  through  him  is  to  be  received, 
and  I  have  made  this  supposition  for  the  purpose  of  placing 
these  prisoners  in  a  situation  somewhat  like  that  of  con- 
demned sinners  in  this  world,  that  I  may  show  how  the 
Bible  brings  relief  to  those  suffering  under  the  burden  of 
sin,  by  offering  them  mercy  through  a  Saviour. 

A  messenger  comes  then,  we  will  suppose,  among  the 
imprisoned  malefactors — tells  them  he  brings  good  news  to 
them — an  offer  of  pardon  from  the  Roman  senate.  The 
prisoners  look  incredulous.  They  know  that  the  Roman 
government  is  an  efficient  one,  and  that  it  is  accustomed  to 
execute  its  laws.  "We  are  justly  imprisoned,"  they  would 
say,  "  and  our  time  is  not  yet  expired — there  can  be  no  for- 
giveness for  us  till  the  law  sets  us  free." 

The  messenger  then  relates  to  them,  that  in  consequence 
of  the  distinguished  services  and  subsequently  cruel  suffer- 
ings of  a  great  Roman  general,  the  senate  had  wished  to 
make  to  his  widow  some  public  expression  of  the  sympathy 
and  gratitude  of  the  commonwealth,  and  that  she  had  asked 
it  as  a  boon,  that  every  penitent  prisoner,  willing  to  abandon 
his  crimes  and  return  to  his  duty,  might  be  set  free  for  her 
husband's  sake. 

Now,  unquestionably,  if  there  were  any  among  these 
prisoners  who  were  really  penitent  for  sin  and  willing  to 
return  to  duty,  their  abhorrence  of  their  crimes  would  be 
increased,  and  their  determination  to  be  faithful  citizens  in 
future  would  be  strengthened  by  receiving  such  an  offer  of 
pardon.  Nay,  it  would  not  be  surprising  if  some  who  were 
still  hardened  in  their  sins,  and  even  in  the  midst  of  noise 
and  revelry  in  the  prison  at  the  very  time  the  messenger 
appeared,  should  be  arrested,  and  their  feelings  touched  by 
such  an  address. 

"  How  different,"  they  might  reflect,  "is  the  conduct  of 
Regulus  from  ours.  We  have  been,  by  our  vices  and  crimes, 
bringing  injuries  without  number  upon  our  country.     He, 


208  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

by  his  labors  and  sufferings,  has  been  unceasingly  endeavor- 
ing to  do  her  good  ;  and  Marcia,  too — it  was  kind  for  her  to 
think  of  us.  "When  we  were  at  liberty,  we  thought  only  of 
gratifying  our  own  passions  ;  we  made  no  effort  to  promote 
the  happiness  of  others,  or  to  diminish  their  sufferings  ;  we 
will  return  to  our  duty,  and  imitate  the  example  they  have 
set  for  us." 

It  would  not  be  surprising  if  such  a  transaction  had 
awakened  these  reflections  m  some  minds ;  and  on  the 
whole,  the  effect  of  the  offer  of  mercy  through  Jesus  Christ 
produces  very  similar  effects  in  the  world  to  those  I  have 
here  imagined  in  the  prison.  When  men  are  told  in  general 
terms,  that  God  is  merciful  and  will  forgive  their  sins,  it 
does  not  in  ordinary  cases  really  relieve  them.  Though  per- 
haps they  do  not  say  it  distinctly,  yet  they  feel  that  God's 
government,  to  be  efficient,  must  have  strict  laws,  and  pen- 
alties strictly  executed;  and  they  are  afraid  that  a  mere 
reliance  on  God's  general  mercy  may  not  be  quite  safe. 
Thousands  trust  to  this  till  they  come  to  their  dying  hour, 
and  then  abandon  it. 

But  when  men  are  told  by  the  word  of  God,  that  Jesus 
Christ  died  for  them — the  just  for  the  unjust — and  that  they 
must  come,  asking  forgiveness  in  his  name  and  for  his  sake, 
it  throws  a  different  aspect  over  the  whole  case ;  a  bright 
gleam  of  hope  from  a  new  and  unexpected  quarter  darts  in. 
Though  they  may  not  know  fully  in  ivliat  way  the  suffer- 
ings of  Christ  may  be  the  means  of  opening  the  way  for 
their  forgiveness,  they  still  can  see  that  it  is  very  possible 
it  may  in  some  way  do  this.  It  is  not  necessary  that  we 
should  understand  fully  the  way.  The  convicts  might  be 
released  without  knowing  all  about  the  story  of  Regulus,  or 
comprehending  exactly  how  such  a  transaction  as  their 
release  on  his  account  would  affect  the  public  mind  in  Rome, 
so  as  to  obviate  the  evil  effects  of  laxity  in  the  administra- 
tion of  public  justice.     There  might  be  many  a  poor  igno- 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  209 

rant  convict  who  could  not  comprehend  such  subjects  at  all, 
and  who  yet  might  possess  the  spirit  of  mind  which  should 
bring  him  most  fully  within  the  conditions  of  release.  Such 
an  one  might  come  to  the  officer  appointed  for  the  purpose, 

and  say, 

"lam  very  grateful  to  the  Roman  senate  for  offering  to 
pardon  me  for  the  sake  of  Regulus.  I  was  really  guilty  of 
the  crime  for  which!  was  sentenced,  and  the  term  of  my 
imprisonment  is  not  longer  than  I  justly  deserve  ;  but  I  am 
glad  to  be  restored  to  freedom  and  to  happiness  now.  I 
shall  always  be  grateful  to  the  senate,  and  shall  cherish  the 
memory  of  Regulus  as  long  as  I  live." 

Now  if  a  prisoner  had  this  spirit,  there  is  no  question  that 
he  would  be  released,  whether  he  was  or  was  not  statesman 
or  philosopher  enough  to  understand  fully  the  moral  charac- 
ter and  influence  of  such  a  transaction ;  and  so,  my  reader, 
if  you  are  willing  to  acknowledge  and  to  forsake  your  sins, 
and  to  accept  of  freedom  and  happiness  in  future,  on  account 
of  another's  merits  and  sufferings,  you  need  not  distress  your- 
self because  you  do  not  fully  comprehend  the  nature  of  that 
great  transaction  of  which  Gethsemane  and  Calvary  were 
the  scene.     It  cannot  be  fully  understood  here.     From  the 
windows  of  our  prison-house  in  this  world,  we  can  see  but  a 
small  part  of  the  great  city  of  God.     We  cannot  therefore 
appreciate  fully  any  of  the  plans  of  his  government ;  we  can, 
however,  feel  right  ourselves.     We  can  ask  forgiveness  in 
Christ's  name,  and  believe,  on  the  authority  of  God's  word, 
that  God  has  set  forth  Jesus  Christ  to  be  a  propitiation  for  us, 
that  we  might  be  saved  through  faith  in  his  blood — that  is, 
by  our  trusting  in  his  sufferings — that  God  might  be  just,  and 
yet  save  those  who  trust  in  the  Saviour.     See  Rom.  3  :  23-26. 
But  to  return  to  the  Roman  prison.     I  have  represented 
one  prisoner  as  acceptmg  the  offer,  and  going  out  to  freedom 
in  consequence  of  it.     Let  us  now  suppose  that  the  public 
officer  appointed  by  the  senate  to  carry  the  message  to  the 


210  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

prisoners,  and  to  receive  their  replies,  should  meet  in  one  of 
the  rooms  a  very  different  reception.  He  passes,  we  will 
suppose,  along  a  dark  passage-way,  until  he  comes  to  the 
door  of  a  gloomy  dungeon  ;  the  keeper  removes  the  heavy 
rusty  bars  and  unbolts  and  unlocks  the  door,  and  as  he 
opens  it,  he  hears  the  unexpected  sounds  of  mirth  and 
revelry  within. 

As  he  enters,  he  sees  the  wretched-looking  inmates  lying 
around  the  cold  stone  floor  upon  their  beds  of  straw.  In  a 
corner  sit  some  with  wild  and  haggard  looks,  relating  to 
each  other,  with  noisy  but  unnatural  mirth,  the  profane  jest 
or  immoral  story.  In  the  middle  of  the  room,  two  are 
quarrelling  for  a  morsel  of  food  which  each  claims,  filling 
the  air  with  their  dreadful  oaths  and  imprecations.  Near 
the  door  lies  a  miserable  object  half  covered  in  his  tattered 
garment,  and  endeavoring  hi  vain  to  get  a  little  sleep.  A 
small  grated  window  high  in  the  wall  admits  a  dim  light, 
just  sufficient  to  reveal  to  view  the  objects  which  compose 
this  scene  of  vice  and  misery. 

The  quarrellers  and  the  rioters  pause  a  moment,  each 
retaining  his  attitude,  and  listen  while  the  messenger  from 
the  senate  lays  before  them  the  offer  of  forgiveness  and 
freedom.  They  gaze  upon  him  for  a  few  minutes  with 
vacant  looks,  but  before  he  has  fairly  finished  his  message, 
the  angry  combatants  recommence  their  war — the  story- 
teller in  the  corner  goes  on  with  his  narrative — the  sleeper 
composes  himself  again  to  rest — and  perhaps  some  fierce 
and  angry-looking  criminal  comes  up  to  the  messenger  and 
says,  in  a  stern  voice,  "Away,  you  have  no  business  here." 

t)o  you  think  that  these  prisoners  would  be  liberated  for 
the  sake  of  Regulus  ?  No.  The  bolts  and  bars  must  be 
closed  upon  them  again,  and  they  must  bear  their  sentence 
to  the  full.  This  is  the  way  that  multitudes  receive  the 
offers  of  forgiveness  through  Jesus  Christ. 

Once  more.     Suppose  this  messenger  were  to  meet,  in 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  211 

some  part  of  the  prison,  one  of  the  convicts  walking  hack 
and  forth  alone  in  his  cell,  and  should  repeat  to  him  the 
story  which  he  was  commissioned  to  bring. 

"Forgiveness  for  the  sake  of  Regulus  !"  says  he,  with 
a  tone  of  scorn ;  "I  want  no  forgiveness  on  account  of 
another ;  you  have  no  right  to  shut  me  up  here  for  any 
thing  I  have  done ;  it  is  unjust  and  cruel.  I  demand 
release  on  my  own  account — without  any  condition  or  any 
acknowledgment  of  my  dependence  for  it  upon  the  merits 
of  another." 

Xow  if  the  messenger  should  meet  with  the  exhibition 
of  such  a  spirit  as  this,  he  would  turn  away  and  close  the 
bolts  and  bars  of  the  prison  again  upon  such  a  convict,  and 
seek  subjects  of  mercy  elsewhere.  God  too  requires  of  us 
all  a  humble  and  subdued  spirit,  and  willingness  to  accept 
of  pardon  in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ,  who  died  for  us. 
TVe  must  come  with  the  spirit  which  I  first  described — the 
spirit  of  the  convict  who  said, 

"  I  am  grateful  to  the  Roman  senate  for  offering  to  par- 
don me  for  the  sake  of  Regulus.  I  was  really  guilty  of  the 
crime  for  which  I  was  sentenced,  and  the  term  of  my  im- 
prisonment is  not  longer  than  I  justly  deserve  ;  but  I  am 
glad  to  be  restored  to  freedom  and  happiness  now.  I  shall 
always  be  grateful  to  the  senate,  and  shall  cherish  the 
memory  of  Regulus  as  long  as  I  live." 

Before  dismissing  this  illustration.  I  wish  to  remind  my 
readers  again,  that  I  have  been  endeavoring  to  exhibit  by 
it  the  spirit  of  mind  with  which  we  ought  to  receive  the 
offer  of  mercy  through  Jesus  Christ,  not  the  nature  of  the 
atonement  which  he  has  made  for  sin.  The  case  I  have 
.magined  could  not  safely  occur  in  any  human  government, 
because  there  would  be  no  way  of  ascertaining  who  among 
the  convicts  were  truly  penitent,  and  were  really  deter- 
mined on  leading  a  life  of  virtue  in  future.  Several  other 
difficulties,  which  in  God's  government  do  not  exist,  are 


212  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

unavoidable  in  every  human  empire.  The  spirit  of  mind 
with  which  the  offer  of  free  forgiveness  in  Jesus'  name  is 
welcomed  or  refused,  is  all  which  I  design  by  this  illustra- 
tion to  explain.  If  the  heart  is  really  ready  to  acknowledge 
its  guilt,  and  willing  to  accept  of  pardon  which  it  does  not 
deserve,  the  offer  of  a  Saviour  is  most  admirably  calculated 
to  restore  peace  of  conscience,  and  heal  the  wounded  spirit. 
And  nothing  but  the  Bible  can  make  such  an  offer.  Thus 
one  of  the  most  powerful  means  by  which  it  changes  char- 
acter, is  awakening  the  sensibilities  of  the  heart  through 
the  exhibition  of  a  Saviour  crucified  for  our  sins,  and  leading 
us  to  feel  that  we  may  be  forgiven,  and  the  obligation  and 
authority  of  the  law  we  have  broken  be  yet  sustained. 

5.  These  changes,  of  character  are  real  and  perma- 
nent, though  often  attended  ivith  strong  excitement,  and 
sometimes  ivith  mental  delusion.  My  readers  recollect  that 
the  first  convict  saw  at  one  time  a  black  coffin,  according 
to  his  statement ;  and  at  another,  he  was  addressed  by  an 
audible  voice  in  his  cell,  telluig  him  that  Ins  sins  were  par- 
doned. These  two  circumstances  were  what  chiefly  induced 
me  to  insert  that  narrative,  that  I  might  bring  up  distinctly 
this  point,  namely,  that  the  changes  of  character  produced 
by  the  Bible  are  sometimes  attended  with  mental  delusion 
in  little  things,  especially  among  those  minds  that  have  been 
but  little  disciplined  by  philosophical  thought.  I  could  not 
have  a  fair  specimen  without  including  an  example  of  this. 

The  human  mind  is  so  constituted,  as  all  who  have 
studied  its  nature  are  fully  aware,  that  when  any  subject  of 
great  interest,  or  any  strong  emotion,  takes  possession  of  it, 
it  operates  immediately  upon  the  body,  producing  some- 
times animal  excitement,  and  sometimes  delusions  of  the 
senses.  So  that  these  very  delusions,  and  this  very  bodily 
excitement,  prove  the  greatness  and  the  reality  of  the  emo- 
tions of  heart  which  have  occasioned  them.  If  a  man 
becomes  very  much  interested  hi  any  scheme,  how  likely  he 


<^0~    oV  THE 

EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  2135,  > 

is  to  become  enthusiastic  in  it.  And  this  enthusiasm  the 
public  usually  consider  as  proving,  not  disproving,  his  sin- 
cerity. It  indicates  the  strength  of  the  interest  which  he 
feels.  It  is  astonishing  what  extravagances  people  will  put 
up  with  from  men  engaged  in  the  prosecution  of  favorite 
plans,  and  will  consider  them  as  pleasant  indications  of  the 
strength  of  the  interest  which  is  felt.  Brinley,  a  famous 
canal  engineer,  was  so  much  interested  in  his  favorite  mode 
of  transportation,  that  he  used  to  express  the  opinion  that 
a  canal  was  far  more  valuable  to  a  country  than  a  naviga- 
ble river.  He  was  once  asked  what  he  supposed  Providence 
intended  in  creating  rivers.  He  said  they  were  good  for 
nothing  but  to  feed  canals.  And  this  story  has  been  copied 
by  every  biographer  of  Brinley  ;  it  has  been  told  again  and 
again,  in  lectures  and  conversations  and  debates,  as  a  pleas- 
ant instance  of  extravagance  in  a  man  devoted  to  a  favorite 
pursuit,  which  proves  nothing  but  the  greatness  of  the 
interest  he  feels  in  it.  Nobody  ever  thought  the  worse  of 
Brinley  for  it,  or  distrusted  his  judgment  on  any  point  in 
the  science  of  engineering.  Millions  were  risked  on  his 
opinion  while  he  was  living,  and  his  name  is  remembered 
with  the  highest  respect.  So  Christians  of  uncultivated 
minds  will  be  sometimes  extravagant  in  their  opinions,  or 
in  their  conduct,  and  only  show  by  it  the  strength  of  the 
interest  they  feel. 

A  man  who  is  inventing  a  machine,  will  become  so 
exceed  that  he  cannot  sleep.  He  will  perhaps,  in  his  efforts 
to  obtain  repose,  fall  into  an  uncertain  state  between  sleep- 
ing and  waking,  in  which,  half  in  reverie  and  half  in  dream, 
fancy  will  present  him  with  splendid  images  of  success. 
He  will  hear  a  voice  or  see  a  figure,  or  he  will  be  assured 
by  some  extraordinary  mode  that  he  shall  overcome  all  his 
difficulties,  if  he  will  persevere.  In  the  morning,  light  and 
the  full  possession  of  his  faculties  return,  and  as  he  is  gener- 
ally a  man  of  intelligence,  he  can  analyze  the  operations  of 


214  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

his  mind,  and  separate  the  false  from  the  true.  If  he  was 
an  unenlightened  man,  however,  and  should  in  the  morning 
tell  his  story,  how  narrow  would  he  the  philosophy  which 
would  say  to  him,  "  Sir,  it  is  all  a  delusion.  Your  mind  is 
evidently  turned.  You  had  hetter  give  up  your  invention, 
and  return  to  other  pursuits."  It  would  be  a  great  deal 
more  wise  to  neglect  altogether  the  story  of  supernatural 
Voices  and  appearances  which  he  might  tell,  and  judge  of 
the  value  of  his  proposed  invention  by  examining  impar- 
tially his  plan  itself,  and  calculating  on  sober  evidence  the 
probability  of  success  or  failure. 

So,  my  reader,  when  you  hear  of  any  thing  which  you 
deem  extravagance  or  delusion  among  Christians,  remember 
how  immense  a  change  the  beginning  of  a  Christian  course 
sometimes  is.  The  man  has  been  all  his  life  neglecting  and 
disliking  religion.  He  has  been  engrossed  in  sinful  pursuits 
and  pleasures,  and  perhaps  addicted  to  open  vice.  All  at 
once,  while  contemplating  God's  holy  truth,  his  eyes  are 
opened — he  sees  his  guilt,  and  his  imminent  danger  of  ruin. 
He  is,  and  he  must  be,  strongly  excited.  If  he  feels  in  any 
just  degree  his  condition,  he  cannot  sleep.  Can  an  arrested 
malefactor  sleep  quietly  the  first  night  in  his  cell  ?  He 
must  be  strongly  excited,  and  this  excitement  must,  in 
many  cases,  bring  something  like  temporary  mental  delu- 
sion. He  may  do  and  say  many  things  in  which  calm  spec- 
tators cannot  sympathize.  But  it  is  most  certainly  verj 
unphilosophical  to  fasten  upon  these,  and  say  it  is  all  delu- 
sion and  wildness.  The  real  question  to  be  considered  is 
tills  :  Is  a  bad  character  really  changed  for  a  good  one  ?  If 
so,  it  is  a  great  moral  change,  invaluable  in  its  nature  and 
results,  productive  of  inconceivable  good  to  the  individual 
himself,  and  to  all  connected  with  him.  The  excess  of  feel 
ing  is  momentary  and  harmless.  In  regard  to  the  perma 
nency  of  the  change  in  the  case  of  those  convicts,  there  is 
one  whose  subsequent  character  I  have  no  means  of  know- 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  215 

ing.  The  other,  however,  when  he  was  liberated,  became 
a  useful  and  respectable  citizen  ;  and  after  sustaining  unin- 
jured for  two  or  three  years  the  temptations  of  the  world, 
he  was  admitted  to  a  Christian  church  ;  and  up  to  the  latest 
accounts  which  I  have  been  able  to  obtain,  he  was  a  most 
trustworthy  man  and  an  exemplary*  Christian.  An  aban* 
doned  profligate,  imprisoned  for  lus  crimes,  becomes  a  useful 
and  a  virtuous  man.  Can  you  expect  such  a  change  with- 
out excitement  ?  How  unphilosophical  then  is  it  to  fasten 
upon  the  slight  and  momentary  indications  of  excitement  as 
evidence  that  there  is  nothing  real  in  the  case. 

And  yet,  unphilosophical  as  this  is,  I  have  no  doubt  that 
there  are  many  persons  whose  eyes,  if  they  were  reading 
the  first  convict's  story,  would  catch  at  once  the  accounts 
of  the  supernatural  appearances  which  he  thought  he  saw, 
and  they  would  stop  short  there.  "  Ah,"  they  would  say, 
"  he  heard  a  voice  forgiving  his  shis — he  saw  a  black  coffin. 
It  is  all  fanaticism  and  delusion."  This  is  narrow-minded- 
ness. The  intellect  which  reasons  thus,  is  hi  such  a  state 
that  it  does  not  take  a  survey  of  the  whole  of  a  subject 
presented,  so  as  to  form  an  independent  and  unbiassed  opin- 
ion. The  man  fastens  upon  one  little  blemish  which  hap- 
pens to  be  turned  towards  him,  and  seeing  no  farther,  he 
condemns  the  whole.  Like  the  inexperienced  mariner,  who 
thinks  he  has  come  to  a  barren  and  inhospitable  land, 
because  he  sees  nothing  but  precipitous  rocks  or  sandy 
beaches  on  the  shore  which  first  comes  to  view. 

There  is,  however,  a  narrow-mindedness  which  may 
operate  in  another  way.  Many  a  sincere  Christian  will  read 
such  an  account  and  be  perfectly  satisfied,  because  he  meets 
with  a  few  expressions  of  penitence,  that  the  convict's 
heart  is  really  changed.     He  thinks  the  criminal  has  cer-  4 

tainly  become  a  Christian,  just  because  he  talks  like  one. 
YVhereas  it  is  very  possible  that  he  is  only  repeating  lan- 
guage which  he  has  heard  others  use,  for  the  sake  of  excit- 


• 


% 

4 


216  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

ing  sympathy,  or  pretending  to  be  reformed,  in  hope  of 
pardon  and  release  from  his  cell.  Now,  it  is  as  narrow- 
minded  to  judge  from  a  very  partial  knowledge  of  facts  in 
one  way  as  in  another.  An  experienced  Christian  can 
indeed  often  form  a  tolerably  safe  opinion  of  the  reality  or 
flctitiousness  of  a  pretended  change  by  conversation  ;  but 
the  great  decisive  evidence  after  all,  is  iter  severance  in  a 
holy  life. 

If  then  men  who  have  been  abandoned  to  vice  become 
virtuous  and  trustworthy  citizens,  and  exemplify  for  years 
the  graces  of  the  Christian  character,  we  will  bear  with  a 
little  excitement,  and  even  enthusiasm,  at  the  time  of  the 
change.  For  it  is,  after  all,  of  comparatively  little  conse- 
quence whether  this  excitement  shows  itself  by  some  open 
manifestation,  as  by  the  black  coffin  rising  to  the  disturbed 
imagination  of  the  convict  in  his  cell,  or  the  loud  shout, 
"Glory  to  God,"  which  resounds  in  the  camp-meeting;  or 
whether  it  is  subdued  and  restrained,  as  in  the  still  solem- 
nity of  an  inquiry-meeting  on  the  evening  of  the  Sabbath,  or 
in  the  solitary  suffering  of  an  awakened  sinner  mourning  at 
midnight  the  burden  of  his  sins.  Remember,  that  I  say  it  is 
of  little  consequence,  not  that  it  is  of  none.  It  would  be 
better  if  men  would  follow  Jesus  as  readily  and  as  easily  as 
Matthew  did.  Jesus  said  unto  him,  "Arise,  and  follow  me  ; 
and  he  arose  and  followed  him."  Immediate  submission, 
with  cordial  confidence  hi  the  Saviour,  will  at  once  remove 
all  mental  suffering  and  all  cause  for  it.  But  if  men  will 
only  give  up  their  sins  and  lead  lives  of  actual  piety,  we  will 
not  quarrel  with  them  about  the  manner  in  which  they 
enter  the  new  way. 

Such,  then,  are  some  of  the  effects  of  the  Bible  upon  the 
human  character  considered  in  detail.  I  have  thought  it 
best,  in  order  to  show  the  moral  power  of  this  book  as  dis- 
tinctly as  possible,  to  analyze  thus  minutely  the  operation  of 


EVIDENCES  OF   CHRISTIANITY.  217 

it  in  some  particular  cases.  But  the  argument  would  be 
very  deficient  if  I  should  leave  it  here  ;  for  if  these  cases 
were  uncommon,  they  would  prove  but  little.  But  they  are 
not  uncommon.  Even  in  prisons,  a  very  large  number  of 
such  cases  have,  as  I  have  already  stated,  occurred ;  and  the 
subjects  of  such  changes  have  gone,  Avhen  they  have  been 
liberated,  in  peace  and  happiness  to  their  homes.  There  are 
now  scattered  over  our  land  vast  numbers  who  have  been 
brought,  from  every  stage  and  degree  of  guilt,  to  seek  pardon 
through  the  Saviour,  and  to  begin  a  life  of  virtue  and  piety. 
The  influence  of  the  Bible,  too,  upon  the  community  at  large 
is  so  great,  that  every  country  where  it  freely  circulates  is 
distinguished  for  the  peace  which  reigns  there.  Vice  is  com- 
paratively unknown,  property  and  life  are  safe,  every  man 
sits  under  his  own  vine  and  fig-tree,  with  none  to  molest  or 
make  him  afraid.  But  when  man  is  left  to  himself,  he 
makes  his  home  a  den  of  robbers.  If  you  travel  on  the  Nile 
or  the  Tigris,  you  must  look  well  to  your  means  of  defence. 
Men  must  go  in  caravans  in  all  those  regions  for  mutual  pro- 
tection. But  how  would  an  armed  escort  for  a  traveller 
appear  on  the  banks  of  the  Connecticut  or  the  Hudson  ? 

And  yet,  though  benefits  so  great  are  procured  to  society 
by  the  Bible,  they  are  procured,  after  all,  only  by  a  limited 
application  of  its  moral  power.  It  is  a  very  small  propor- 
tion of  the  whole  population,  even  in  the  United  States, 
which  attends  at  all  to  the  commands  and  instructions  of 
the  word  of  God.  The  numbers  are  however  rapidly  increas- 
ing. The  cause  of  God  is  advancing  with  great  rapidity ; 
and  as  a  military  despotism  or  a  Christian  republic  must  be 
the  ultimate  destiny  of  the  nation,  we  can  look  only  to  the 
spread  of  the  influence  of  the  Bible  to  save  our  country  from 
ruin. 

I  will  close  this  chapter  by  mentioning  one  more  evi- 
dence of  the  moral  power  of  the  Bible — it  is  its  effect  in 
destroying  the  fear  of  death.     The  fear  of  death  is  in  part 

Y.Christian.  10 


218  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

instinctive,  not  founded  on  reasoning.  It  is  reasonable  for 
us  to  fear  some  things  connected  with  death,  and  a  sense  of 
unpardoned  sin  will  make  death  terrible  indeed ;  but  no 
small  part  of  the  apprehension  which  every  man  feels  in 
looking  forward  to  that  hour,  is  the  result  of  an  instinctive 
principle  which  Providence  has  implanted  in  the  human 
mind  ;  and  the  only  way  by  which  it  can  be  counteracted 
without  the  Bible,  is  by  banishing  the  subject  from  the 
thoughts.  That  is  the  way  that  soldiers  acquire  courage  in 
battle — by  accustoming  themselves  not  to  think  of  death  at 
all.  It  is  not  in  human  nature  to  contemplate  its  approach, 
habitually  and  calmly,  without  such  a  preparation  as  the 
Bible  gives. 

Come  in  imagination  to  this  sick  chamber.  That  young 
man  tossing  restlessly  upon  his  pillow  is  soon  to  die.  His 
physicians  have  given  him  over.  His  friends  despair,  but, 
by  a  most  absurd  and  preposterous  species  of  kindness,  they 
will  not  tell  him  of  his  danger,  for  they  know  he  is  unpre- 
pared to  die,  and  the  knowledge  of  the  approach  of  the  dread 
hour  they  think  will  distress  him.  But  the  sad  secret  they 
cannot  conceal ;  he  reads  Iris  sentence  in  their  anxious  looks 
and  agitated  words — his  pale  cheek  turns  paler  with  fear, 
and  to  the  natural  restlessness  of  disease,  there  is  added  the 
overwhelming  agitation  of  mental  anguish.  Can  you  soothe 
him  ?  Can  you  calm  him  ?  Your  very  effort  reveals  to 
him  his  danger  more  distinctly,  and  his  heart  sinks  within 
him  in -hopeless  terror.  Sometimes,  it  is  true,  this  fear  of 
death  does  not  reign  in  the  heart  at  the  closing  hour,  for 
reason  may  be  gone,  or  the  soul  may  sink  into  stupor.  But 
when  death  is  really  foreseen  and  known  to  be  near,  while 
the  faculties  retain  their  power,  the  expectation  of  it  weighs 
down  the  human  spirit  with  overwhelming  fears. 

But  the  Bible  tells  us  that  the  sting  of  death  is  sin,  and 
that  Christ  will  give  believers  the  victory  over  it.  The 
Bible  most  faithfully  keeps  this  promise.     See  that  dying 


EVIDENCES  OF  CHRISTIANITY.  219 

Christian  mother.  She  knows  that  death  is  near,  and  has 
calmly  made  all  her  arrangements  for  the  closing  scene.  She 
is  a  Christian,  and  looks  forward  to  an  entrance  into  the 
world  of  spirits  with  no  foreboding  and  no  anxiety.  Her 
husband  and  children  and  friends  stand  in  agitation  and 
distress  around  her  bedside,  but  she  is  calm.  A  Christian 
death- bed  very  often  exhibits  the  astonishing  spectacle  of 
composure  and  happiness  in  the  one  who  is  to  drink  the  cup  ; 
while  those  around,  who  are  only  witnesses  of  the  scene,  are 
overwhelmed  in  agitation  and  sorrow.  The  very  one  who  is 
to  encounter  the  suffering,  is  the  only  one  who  can  look  for- 
ward to  it  without  fear.  It  is  because  the  Spirit  of  God  has 
applied  the  truths  of  the  Bible  to  her  heart,  and  by  their 
instrumentality  has  disarmed  death,  the  very  king  of  terrors, 
and  given  to  a  weak  and  suffering  mortal  the  victory  over 
all  his  power. 

But  I  must  close  this  chapter,  and  with  it  close  the 
short  and  simple  view  I  have  been  endeavoring  to  give  of 
the  evidences  of  Christianity.  I  cannot  but  hope  that  my 
readers  see  evidence  enough  to  satisfy  them  that  the  Bible  is 
really  the  word  of  God.  If  you  do,  lay  up  the  conviction  in 
your  heart,  and  let  it  guide  and  influence  you.  But  let  me, 
before  I  dismiss  the  subject,  give  you  two  or  three  short  prac- 
tical directions. 

1.  Do  not  think  there  is  no  other  side  to  this  question. 
There  are  a  great  many  things  which  may  be  said  against 
the  Bible,  and  some  things  which  you,  with  your  present 
attainments  in  Christian  knowledge,  perhaps  cannot  answer 
But  they  do  not  touch  or  affect  the  great  arguments  by 
which  the  authority  of  the  Bible  is  sustained.  They  are  all 
small,  detached  difficulties.  Then  let  your  mind  rest,  calmly 
and  with  confidence,  upon  the  great  but  simple  arguments 
on  which  the  strong  foundations  of  your  belief  stand. 

2.  Never  dispute  upon  the  evidences  of  the   Christian 
relisdon.     The  difficulty  with  unbelievers  is  one  of  the  heart, 


220  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

not  of  the  intellect,  and  you  cannot  alter  the  heart  by  dis« 
puting.  When  they  present  you  with  arguments  against 
Christianity,  reply  in  substance,  "What  you  say  does  not 
reach  the  broad  and  deep  foundations  upon  which,  in  my 
view,  Christianity  rests  ;  and  consequently,  notwithstanding 
what  you  say,  I  still  place  confidence  in  the  word  of  God." 

3.  Notice  this,  which,  if  you  will  watch  your  own  expe- 
rience, you  will  find  to  be  true.  Your  confidence  in  the 
word  of  God  and  in  the  truths  of  religion  will  be  almost 
exactly  proportional  to  the  fidelity  with  which  you  serve 
Christ.  When  you  lose  your  interest  hi  your  progress  in 
piety,  neglect  prayer,  and  wander  into  sin,  then  you  will 
begin  to  be  hi  darkness  and  doubt.  If  you  are  so  unhappy 
as  to  get  into  such  a  state,  do  not  waste  your  time  in  trying 
to  reason  yowself  hack  to  belief  again.  Return  to  duty. 
Come  to  God  and  confess  your  wanderings,  seek  forgiveness 
through  Christ,  and  submit  your  heart  to  be  inclined  to  him. 
If  you  do  this,  light  for  the  intellect  and  peace  for  the  heart 
will  come  back  together. 


STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  221 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

STUDY  OF   THE   BIBLE. 

"  Able  to  make  us  wise  unto  salvation." 

It  is  not  my  intention  in  this  chapter  to  give  any  descrip- 
tion of  the  Bible  itself,  or  of  its  history  since  it  came  into  the 
world ;  nor  shall  I  endeavor  to  establish  its  divine  authority, 
or  present  the  evidences  or  the  nature  of  its  inspiration.  My 
object  is  to  point  out  practical  duty,  and  I  shall  confine  my- 
self to  a  description  of  the  best  methods  of  reading  and  study- 
ing the  book. 

I  ought,  however,  to  remark  at  the  outset,  that  I  intend 
the  chapter  to  be  of  a  highly  practical  character,  and  I  shall 
go  accordingly  into  minute  detail.  Besides,  I  am  writing 
for  the  young,  and  shall,  as  I  have  generally  done  in  this 
book,  confine  myself  exclusively  to  them ;  for  I  have  much 
more  hope  that  they  will  be  influenced  to  follow  the  course 
which  I  shall  endeavor  to  describe,  than  that  my  efforts  will 
produce  any  good  effect  upon  those  who  have  gone  beyond 
the  meridian  of  life.  If  a  man  has  passed  the  age  of  thirty 
without  the  Bible,  it  is  to  be  feared  that  he  will  go  on  unaid- 
ed by  its  light  through  the  remainder  of  his  pilgrimage.  It 
is  different,  however,  with  the  young.  You  shrink  from 
passing  life  hi  impiety.  You  know  that  the  Bible  can  be  the 
only  safe  lamp  to  your  feet ;  and  if  you  are  not  now  living 
by  its  light,  there  is  hope  that  you  may  be  persuaded  to 
come  and  give  yourself  up  to  its  guidance. 

The  Bible  should  be  studied.  Every  person,  old  or 
young,  ignorant  or  learned,  should  devote  a  portion  of  time 
every  day,  or,  where  this  is  impossible,  at  least  every  Sab- 
bath to  the  study  of  the  Scriptures,  in  the  more  strict  and 


.222  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

proper  sense  of  that  term.  But  to  show  precisely  what  I 
mean  by  this  study  of  the  Bible,  I  will  describe  a.  particular 
case.  A  young  man  with  only  such  opportunities  as  are 
possessed  by  all,  resolves  to  take  this  course.  He  selects  the 
epistle  to  the  Ephesians  for  his  first  subject ;  he  obtains 
such  books  and  helps  as  he  finds  in  his  own  family,  or  as  he 
can  obtain  from  a  religious  friend,  or  procure  from  a  Sabbath- 
school  library.  It  is  not  too  much  to  suppose  that  he  will 
have  a  sacred  atlas,  some  commentary,  and  probably  a  Bible 
dictionary.  He  should  also  have  pen,  ink,  and  paper ;  and 
thus  provided,  he  sits  down  early  in  the  morning  to  his  work. 
He  raises  a  short  but  heartfelt  prayer  to  God  that  he  will 
assist  and  bless  him,  and  then  commences  his  inquiries. 

The  epistle  to  the  Ephesians  I  have  supposed  to  be  his 
subject.  He  sees  that  the  first  question  evidently  is,  "  "Who 
were  the  Ephesians?"  He  finds  the  city  of  Ephesus  upon 
the  map  ;  and  from  the  preface  to  the  epistle  contained  in 
the  commentary,  or  from  any  other  source  to  which  he  can 
have  access,  he  learns  what  sort  of  a  city  it  was — what  was 
the  character  of  the  inhabitants,  and  if  possible  what  condi- 
tion the  city  was  hi  at  the  time  this  letter  was  written.  He 
next  inquires  in  regard  to  the  writer  of  this  letter  or  epistle, 
as  it  is  called.  It  was  Paul ;  and  what  did  Paul  know  of 
the  Ephesians  ;  had  he  ever  been  there  ;  or  was  he  writing 
to  strangers  ?  To  settle  these  points,  so  evidently  important 
to  a  correct  understanding  of  the  letter,  he  examines  the  Acts 
of  the  Apostles — in  which  an  account  of  St.  Paul's  labors  is 
contained — to  learn  whether  Paul  went  there,  and  if  so,  what 
happened  while  he  was  there.  He  finds  that  many  inter- 
esting incidents  occurred  during  Paul's  visits,  and  his  curi- 
osity is  excited  to  know  whether  these  things  will  be  alluded 
to  in  the  letter ;  he  also  endeavors  to  ascertain  where  Paul 
was  when  he  wrote  the  letter.  After  having  thus  ascer- 
tained every  thing  relating  to  the  circumstances  of  the  case 
as  far  as  he  is  able,  he  is  prepared  to  come  to  the  epistle 


STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  223 

itself,  and  enter  with  spirit  and  interest  into  an  examination 
of  its  contents. 

He  first  glances  his  eye  cursorily  through  the  chapters 
of  the  book,  that  he  may  take  in  at  once  a  general  view  of  its 
object  and  design — perhaps  he  makes  cut  a  brief  list  of  the 
topics  discussed,  and  thus  has  a  distinct  general  idea  of  .the 
whole  before  he  enters  into  a  minute  examination  of  the 
parts.  The  time  devoted  to  these  preparatory  inquiries  i3 
well  employed ;  for  by  it  he  is  now  prepared  to  enter  with 
interest  into  the  very  soul  and  spirit  of  the  letter.  While  he 
was  ignorant  of  these  points,  his  knowledge  of  the  epistle 
itself  must  have  been  very  vague  and  superficial.  Suppose 
I  were  now  to  introduce  into  tins  book  a  letter,  and  should 
begin  at  once,  without  saying  by  whom  the  letter  was  writ- 
ten, or  to  whom  it  was  addressed.  It  would  be  preposterous. 
If  I  wished  to  excite  your  interest,  I  should  describe  partic- 
ularly the  parties  and  the  circumstances  which  produced 
the  letter  originally.  And  yet,  how  many  Christians  there 
are,  who  could  not  tell  whether  Paul's  letter  to  the  Ephe- 
sians  was  written  before  or  after  he  went  there,  or  where 
Titus  was  when  Paul  wrote  to  him,  or  for  what  special  pur- 
pose he  wrote. 

Take  another  case.  The  father  and  mother  whom  Prov- 
idence has  placed  at  the  head  of  a  family,  contrive  to  close 
their  worldly  business  at  an  early  hour  on  Saturday  evening, 
and  gather  around  the  table  at  then:  fireside  all  those  who 
are  committed  to  their  charge.  They  choose  some  subject 
for  examination — real,  thorough  examination.  Perhaps  it 
is  the  rebuilding  of  Jerusalem  after  the  captivity.  The  vari- 
ous books  calculated  to  assist  their  inquiries  are  distributed 
among  the  members  of  the  group  ;  the  reference  Bible  is 
given  to  one — the  Concordance  to  another — an  Expositor  to 
the  third — the  Bible  Dictionary  to  the  fourth;  and  then, 
when  all  are  seated,  and  the  divine  blessing  has  been  asked 
upon  their  labors,  the  father  asks  them  ail  to  turn  to  any 


224  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

part  of  the  Scriptures  which  gives  information  upon  the  sub- 
ject.  They  examine  first  the  account  of  the  destruction  of 
the  city,  when  the  Jews  were  carried  captive,  that  they 
may  know  in  what  condition  it  was  probably  found  on  their 
return.  They  search  in  several  books  for  an  account  of  the 
first  movements  in  Babylon  of  those  who  were  desirous  of 
return  ;  they  examine  the  plans  they  formed  ;  compare  one 
account  with  another  ;  every  question  which  occurs  is  asked, 
and  the  information  which  it  seeks  for  obtained.  The  two 
expeditions  of  Ezra  and  Nehemiah  are  examined — the  object 
of  each,  and  the  connection  between  them.  Under  the  con- 
trol of  a  judicious  parent,  even  secular  history  might  be  oc- 
casionally referred  to  to  throw  light  upon  the  subject.  AYe 
may  properly  avail  ourselves  of  any  helps  of  this  kind,  so  far 
as  their  tendency  is  really  to  throw  light  upon  the  sacred 
volume.  The  children  of  the  family  soon  take  a  strong 
interest  in  the  study,  their  inquiries  are  encouraged,  their 
curiosity  is  awakened  ;  they  regard  it  a  pleasure,  not  a  task. 
Instead  of  the  evening  of  Saturday,  the  afternoon  or  evening 
of  the  Sabbath,  if  more  convenient,  may  be  used ;  and  if  the 
children  are  members  of  a  Sabbath-school,  their  next  lesson 
may  be  the  subject.  Those  accustomed  to  the  use  of  the 
pen  will  derive  great  advantage  from  writing,  each  evening, 
notes  or  abstracts  expressing,  in  a  concise  and  simple  style, 
the  new  knowledge  they  have  acquired  ;  and  every  difficulty 
should  be  noted,  that  it  may  be  presented  at  a  convenient 
opportunity  to  some  other  Christian  student,  to  the  super- 
intendent of  the  Sabbath-school  or  to  a  minister  of  the 
gospel. 

This  method  of  studying  the  Scriptures  which  I  have 
thus  attempted  to  describe,  and  which  I  might  illustrate  by 
supposing  many  other  cases,  is  not  intended  for  one  class 
alone  ;  not  for  the  ignorant  peculiarly,  nor  for  the  wise  ;  not 
for  the  rich,  nor  for  the  poor ;  but  for  all.  The  solitary 
widow,  in  her  lonely  cottage  among  the  distant  mountains, 


STUDY  OF  THE   BIBLE.  225 

with  nothing  but  her  simple  Bible  in  her  hand,  by  the  light 
of  her  evening  fire,  may  pursue  this  course  of  comparing 
scripture  with  scripture,  and  entering  into  the  spirit  of 
sacred  story,  throwing  herself  back  to  ancient  times,  and 
thus  preparing  herself  to  grasp  more  completely,  and  to  feel 
more  vividly,  the  moral  lessons  which  the  Bible  is  mainly 
intended  to  teach.  And  the  most  cultivated  scholar  may 
pursue  this  course  in  his  quiet  study,  surrounded  by  all  the 
helps  to  a  thorough  knowledge  of  the  Scriptures  which 
learning  can  produce  or  wealth  obtain. 

I  hope  the  specimens  I  have  given  are  sufficient  to  con« 
vey  to  my  readers  the  general  idea  I  have  in  view,  when  I 
speak  of  studying  the  Bible,  in  contradistinction  from  the 
mere  cursory  reading  of  it,  which  is  so  common  among 
Christians.  But  I  must  illustrate  in  minute  detail  the  vari- 
ous methods  of  doing  this  ;  for  there  are  many  persons  who 
really  wish  to  study  the  Bible  more  intellectually,  and  to 
receive  more  vivid  impressions  from  it,  but  who  really  do 
not  know  exactly  what  they  are  to  do  to  secure  these  objects. 
I  shall  therefore  describe  some  of  the  means  which  can 
easily  be  adopted,  and  which  will  be  very  efficient  for  this 
purpose. 

1.  Picturing  to  the  imagination  the  scenes  described. 
There  is  a  very  common  difficulty  felt  by  multitudes  in  read- 
ing the  Bible,  which  admits  of  so  sure  and  easy  a  remedy 
by  the  above  direction,  that  I  cannot  avoid  devoting  a  few 
paragraphs  to  the  formal  consideration  of  it. 

A  person  who  is  convinced  that  it  is  his  duty  to  read 

the  word  of  God,  and  who  really  desires  to  read  it,  and  to 

receive  instruction  from  it,  sits  down  to  the  work.     He  opens 

perhaps  to  a  passage  in  the  gospels,  and  reads  on  verse  after 

verse.     The  phraseology  is  all  perfectly  familiar.     He  has 

read  the  same  passage  a  hundred  times  before,  and  the  words 

fall  upon  his  ear  like  a  sound  long  familiar,  producing  no 

impression  and  awakening  no  idea.     After  going  tlirough  a 

10* 


226  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

few  verses,  he  finds  that  he  is  making  no  real  progress  ;  per- 
haps his  mind  has  left  his  work  altogether,  and  is  wandering 
to  some  other  subject.  He  begins  back,  therefore,  a  few 
verses,  and  endeavors  to  become  interested  in  the  narrative, 
but  it  is  to  little  purpose  ;  and  after  spending  half  an  hour 
in  reading,  he  shuts  his  book,  and  instead  of  feeling  that 
renewed  moral  strength  and  peace  of  mind  which  comes 
frcm  the  proper  use  of  the  word  of  God,  he  feels  disappointed 
and  dissatisfied,  and  returns  to.  his  other  duties  more  unquiet 
in  spirit  than  before.  "What  a  vast  proportion  of  the  reading 
of  the  Bible,  as  practised  in  Christian  countries,  does  this 
description  justly  portray. 

Now  some  one  may  say,  that  this  careless  and  useless 
study  of  God's  word  arises  from  a  cold  and  indifferent  state 
of  heart  towards  God.  It  does  unquestionably  often  arise,  in 
a  great  degree,  from  this  source,  but  not  entirely.  There  is 
another  difficulty  not  connected  with  the  moral  state  of  the 
heart.     It  is  this  : 

"Words  that  have  been  often  repeated  gradually  lose  their 
power  to  awaken  vivid  ideas  in  the  mind.  The  clock  which 
has  struck  perhaps  many  thousand  times  in  your  room,  you 
at  last  cease  even  to  hear.  On  the  walls  of  a  school-room 
there  was  once  painted  in  large  letters,  "  a  place  for  every 

THING,  AND    EVERY    THING  IN    ITS    PLACE  '"    but    after   a  little 

time  the  pupils,  becoming  familiar  with  the  sight  of  the  in- 
scription, lost  altogether  its  meaning  ;  and  a  boy  would  open 
his  disorderly  desk  and  look  among  the  confused  mass  of 
books  and  slates  and  papers  there  for  some  article  he  had 
lost,  and  then,  as  he  looked  around  the  room,  his  eyes  would 
fall  on  the  conspicuous  motto,  without  thinking  a  moment 
of  the  incongruity  between  its  excellent  precept  and  his  own 
disorderly  practice.  It  is  always  so.  The  oft-repeated  sound 
falls  at  last  powerless  and  unheeded  on  the  ear. 

The  difficulty,  then,  that  I  am  now  to  consider  is,  that 
in  reading  the  Bible,  especially  those  portions  which  are 


STUDY   OF   THE   BIBLE.  227 

familiar,  we  step  with  merely  repeating  once  more  the  words, 
instead  of  penetrating  fully  to  the  meaning  beyond.  In  order 
to  illustrate  this  difficulty  and  its  remedy  more  fully,  let  me 
take  a  passage,  the  sixth  chapter  of  St  John  for  example, 
to  which  I  have  opened. 

"  After  these  things  Jesus  went  over  the  sea  of  Galilee,  which 
is  the  sea  of  Tiberias.  And  a  great  multitude  followed  him,  be- 
cause they  saw  his  miracles  which  he  did  on  them  that  were 
diseased." 

How  familiar,  now,  this  sounds  to  every  reader.  Every 
phrase  comes  upon  the  ear  like  an  oft-told  tale,  but  it  makes 
a  very  slight  impression  upon  the  mind.  The  next  verse, 
though  perhaps  few  of  my  readers  know  now  what  it  is,  will 
sound  equally  familiar  when  they  read  it  here  : 

"  And  Jesus  went  up  into  a  mountain,  and  there  he  sat  with 
his  disciples." 

Now,  suppose  this  passage  and  the  verses  which  follow 
it  were  read  at  morning  prayer  by  the  master  of  a  family  ; 
how  many  of  the  children  would  hear  it  without  being  inter- 
ested, or  receiving  any  clear  and  vivid  ideas  from  the  de- 
scription. And  how  many  would  there  be  who,  if  they  were 
asked  two  hours  afterwards  what  had  been  read  that  morn- 
ing, would  be  utterly  unable  to  tell. 

But  now,  suppose  that  this  same  father  could,  by  some 
magic  power,  show  to  his  children  tJie  real  scene  which  these 
verses  describe.  Suppose  he  could  go  back  through  the 
eighteen  hundred  years  which  have  elapsed  since  these  events 
occurred,  and  taking  his  family  to  some  elevation  in  the  ro- 
mantic scenery  of  Palestine,  from  which  they  might  overlook 
the  country  of  Galilee,  actually  show  them  all  that  this 
chapter  describes. 

"Do  you  see,"  he  might  say,  "that  wide  sea  which 
spreads  out  beneath  us  and  occupies  the  whole  extent  of 
the  valley  ?  That  is  the  sea  of  Tiberias ;  it  is  also  called 
the  sea  of  Galilee.     All  this  country  which  spreads  around 


• 


228  THE   YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

it  is  Galilee.  Those  distant  mountains  are  in  Galilee,  and 
that  beautiful  wood  which  skirts  the  shore  is  a  Galilean 
forest." 

"  Why  is  it  called  the  sea  of  Tiberias  ?"  a  child  might 
ask 

"  Do  you  see  at  the  foot  of  that  hill,  on  the  opposite  shore 
of  the  lake,  a  small  town  ?  It  extends  along  the  margin  of 
the  water  for  a  considerable  distance.  That  is  Tiberias,  and 
the  lake  sometimes  takes  its  name. 

"  But  look — there  is  a  small  boat  coming  round  a  point  of 

j  land  which  juts  out  beautifully  from  this  side  of  the  lake.    It 

I  is  slowly  making  its  way  across  the  water — we  can  almost 

/    I  hear  the  splashing  of  the  oars.     It  contains  the  Saviour  and 

some  of  his  disciples.     They  are  steering  towards  Tiberias— 

now  they  approach   the  shore — they  stop  at  the  landing, 

and  the  Saviour,  followed  by  Ins  disciples,  walks  upon  the 

shore." 

Suppose  now  that  this  party  of  observers  can  remain  a 
little  longer  at  their  post,  and  see  in  a  short  time  that  some 
sick  person  is  brought  to  the  Saviour  to  be  healed.  Another 
and  another  comes.  A  crowd  gradually  collects  around 
him.  He  retreats  slowly  up  the  rising  ground,  and  after  a 
little  time  he  is  seen  to  take  his  place  upon  an  elevated 
spot,  where  he  can  overlook  and  address  the  throng  which 
has  collected  around  him. 

If  this  could  be  done,  how  strong  and  how  lasting  an 
impression  would  be  made  upon  those  minds.  Years,  and 
perhaps  the  whole  of  life  itself,  would  not  obliterate  it. 
Even  this  faint  description,  though  it  brings  nothing  new 
to  the  mind,  will  probably  make  a  much  stronger  and  more 
lasting  impression  than  merely  reading  the  narration  would 
do.  And  what  is  the  reason  ?  Hoav  is  it  that  what  I  have 
here  said  has  impressed  this  scene  upon  your  minds  more 
distinctly  than  the  simple  language  of  the  Bible  ?  Why,  it 
is  only  because  I  have  endeavored  to  lead  you  to  picture 


STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  229 

this  scene  to  your  minds — to  conceive  of  it  strongly  and 
clearly.  Now  any  person  can  do  this  for  himself  in  regard 
to  any  passage  of  Scripture.  It  is  not  necessary  that  I 
should  go  on  and  delineate  in  this  manner  the  whole  of  the 
account.  Each  reader  can,  if  he  will  task  his  imagination, 
paint  for  himself  the  scenes  which  the  Bible  describes.  And 
if  he  does  bring  his  intellect  and  his  powers  of  conception 
to  the  work,  and  read,  not  merely  to  repeat,  formally  and 
coldly,  sounds  already  familiar,  but  to  bring  to  his  mind 
vivid  and  clear  conceptions  of  all  which  is  represented  there, 
he  will  be  interested.  He  will  find  hew  and  striking  scenes 
coming  up  continually  to  view^  and  will  be  surprised  at  the 
novelty  and  interest  which  this  simple  and  easy  effort  will 
throw  over  those  very  portions  of  the  Bible  to  which  the 
ear  has  become  most  completely  familiar. 

I  wish  now  that  every  one  of  my  readers  would  really 
try  this  experiment.  It  will  do  very  little  good  merely  to 
read  the  foregoing  directions  and  resolve  generally  to  try  in 
future  to  form  vivid  and  clear  conceptions  of  what  is  de- 
scribed when  you  are  reading ;  you  must  make  a  particular 
effort  to  learn  to  do  this.  Now  the  next  time  you  sit  down 
to  reading  the  Bible,  turn  to  the  fifth  chapter  of  the  gospel 
according  to  St.  Luke,  and  picture  to  yourself  as  vividly  as 
possible  the  scene  described  there.  Do  not  think  of  a  shore 
in  general,  but  conceive  of  some  particular  shore.  Give  it 
shape  and  form.  Let  it  be  rocky  or  sandy,  or  high  or  low, 
bordered  with  woods,  or  with  hills,  or  with  meadows.  Let 
it  be  something  distinct.  You  may,  if  you  please,  conceive 
it  to  be  a  long  sandy  beach,  with  a  lofty  bank  and  a  ver- 
dant field  behind  ;  or  you  may  have  it  an  open  wood,  slop- 
ing gradually  down  to  the  water's  edge  ;  or  a  rocky,  irregu- 
lar coast,  full  of  indentations  ;  or  a  deep  and  narrow  bay, 
whose  shores  are  overhung  with  willows.  Let  it  assume 
either  of  these  forms,  or  any  other  which  your  fancy  may 
portray,  and  which  may  suit  the  circumstances  of  the  narra- 


/ 


230  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

tive  ;  only  let  it  be  something  distinct — clear  and  distinct 
in  all  its  parts ;  so  that  if  you  had  power  to  represent  upon 
canvas  by  painting  the  conceptions  of  your  mind,  you  might 
execute  a  perfect  picture  of  the  whole  scene. 

To  do  this  properly  will  require  time  and  thought.  You 
must  be  alone,  or  at  least  uninterrupted,  and  your  first  effort 
will  be  a  difficult  one.  The  power  of  forming  clear  and 
vivid  conceptions  of  this  kind  varies  greatly  in  different 
individuals.  The  faculty  can,  however,  b£  cultivated  and 
strengthened  by  exercise.  Historical  painters,  that  is,  paint- 
ers of  historical  scenes,  are  enabled  to  produce  very  great 
effects  by  the  possession  of  this  power.  West,  for  example, 
formed  in  his  own  mind  a  clear  and  vivid  and  interesting 
conception  of  the  scene  which  was  exhibited  when  the 
crowd  of  angry  Jews  rejected  the  Saviour  and  called  for  his 
crucifixion.  He  painted  this  scene,  and  the  great  picture 
which  he  has  thus  produced  has  been  gazed  at  with  intense 
interest  by  many  thousands. 

I  saw  this  picture  in  the  gallery  of  the  Athenaeum  at 
Boston.  The  gallery  is  a  large  and  lofty  apartment,  lighted 
by  windows  above,  and  containing  seats  for  hundreds.  As 
I  came  up  the  stairs  which  lead  into  the  room,  and  stepped 
from  them  upon  the  floor  of  the  apartment,  I  found  a  large 
company  assembled.  The  picture,  which  was,  as  I  should 
suppose,  ten  or  fifteen  feet  long,  stood  against  one  side  of 
the  apartment,  and  before  it,  arranged  upon  the  seats,  were 
the  assembled  spectators,  who  were  gazing  with  intense 
interest,  and  almost  in  perfect  silence,  upon  the  scene.  As 
we  came  forward  before  the  canvas  we  felt  the  same  sol- 
emn impression  which  had  silenced  the  others ;  and  it  was 
interesting  and  affecting  to  observe,  as  party  after  party 
came  up  the  stairs,  talking  with  their  usual  freedom,  that 
their  voices  gradually  died  away,  and  they  stood  silent  and 
subdued  before  the  picture  of  the  Saviour. 

Yes;  there  stood  the  Saviour  in  the  middle  of  the  pic- 


STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  231 

ture,  passive  and  resigned,  and  with  a  countenance  whose 
expression  plainly  said  that  his  thoughts  were  far  away. 
The  Roman  governor  stood  before  his  palace  endeavoring  to 
persuade  the  mob  to  consent  to  their  prisoner's  release.  The 
uncovered  and  hard-featured  soldiery  sat  at  his  feet  upon 
the  cross  which  they  had  been  carrying,  and  were  holding 
in  their  hands  the  spikes  with  which  the  limbs  of  the  inno- 
cent one  before  them  were  to  be  pierced.  All  the  other 
attendant  circumstances  were  most  vividly  and  strikingly 
represented.  The  mob  were  there,  with  fury  and  rage  and 
hate  in  every  variety  upon  their  countenances.  Barabbas 
was  there,  with  his  look  of  hardened  and  unsubdued  guilt — 
and  the  centurion's  little  daughter,  whose  life  Jesus  had 
saved,  stood  by  her  father,  apparently  entreating  him  to 
interpose  his  power  to  rescue  her  preserver. 

Now  West  must  have  possessed,  in  order  to  succeed  in 
executing  such  a  work,  the  power,  first,  of  forming  a  clear 
mental  conception  of  the  scene,  and  secondly,  of  represent- 
ing this  scene  by  colors  on  the  canvas.  The  former  of 
these  only  is  the  one  necessary  for  the  object  I  have  above 
described,  and  you  ought,  while  reading  accounts  of  scrip- 
ture scenes,  to  form  as  vivid  and  distinct  conceptions  of  the 
scenes  described  as  if  you  were  actually  intending  to  repre- 
sent them  by  the  pencil. 

2,  Writing  questions.  A  young  man,  with  pen  and 
paper  before  him,  sits  down,  I  will  suppose,  to  the  examina- 
tion of  some  portion  of  the  Bible,  intending  to  write  ques- 
tions upon  the  passage,  such  as  he  would  ask  if  he  were 
teaching  a  class  in  a  Sabbath-school.  Suppose  he  opens  to 
the  account  of  Abraham's  offering  Isaac. 

The  following  is  the  passage  :  I  copy  it,  that  the  reader 
may  the  better  understand  the  questions. 

"  1 .  And  it  came  to  pass  after  these  things,  that  God  did  tempt 
Abraham,  and  said  unto  him,  Abraham;  and  he  said,  Behold, 
here  T  am. 


232  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

lc2.  And  he  said,  Take  now  thy  son,  thine  only  son  Isaac, 
whom  thou  lovest.  and  get  thee  into  the  land  of  Moriah;  and 
offer  him  there  for  a  burnt-offering  upon  one  of  the  mountains 
which  I  will  tell  thee  of. 

"3.  And  Abraham  rose  up  early  in  the  morning,  and  saddled 
his  ass,  and  took  two  of  his  young  men  with  him,  and  Isaac  his 
son,  and  clave  the  wood  for  the  burnt-offering,  and  rose  up,  and 
went  unto  the  place  of  which  God  had  told  him. 

"  4.  Then  on  the  third  day,  Abraham  lifted  up  his  eyes,  and 
saw  the  place  afar  off. 

"  5.  And  Abraham  said  unto  his  young  men.  Abide  ye  here 
with  the  ass,  and  I  and  the  lad  will  go  yonder  and  worship,  and 
come  again  to  you." 

He  reads  this  narrative  carefully,  verse  by  verse,  and 
writes  a  question  for  every  important  fact  stated.  Perhaps 
the  questions  might  be  somewhat  as  follows.  The  reader, 
in  examining  them,  is  particularly  requested  to  compare 
the  questions  individually  with  the  verses  in  which  the 
answers  are  contained.  I  ought  also  to  remark,  that  I  do 
not  offer  these  as  examples  of  good  questions,  but  only  as 
a  specimen  of  such'as  I  suppose  most  young  persons  would 
write. 

1.  To  what  land  did  God  command  Abraham  to  go  to 
offer  up  his  son  ? 

2.  How  was  he  to  be  offered  ? 

3.  Was  he  to  be  offered  on  a  mountain  ? 

4.  How  did  Abraham  travel  ? 

5.  What  time  did  he  set  out  ? 

6.  How  many  attendants  had  he? 

7.  How  long  a  journey  was  it  ? 

8.  What  is  stated  in  the  fifth  verse? 

I  have  written  these  questions  as  I  imagine  they  might 
be  written  by  intelligent  young  persons.  Some  of  them  are, 
however,  evidently  not  good.  A  leading  question  ought  not 
to  be  asked,  that  is,  one  so  written  as  to  imply  what  the 
answer  is;  nor  ought  it  to  be  so  written  that  the  answer 


STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  233 

t 

should  "be  simply  yes  or  no.  No.  3  of  the  above  is  a  lead- 
ing question.  No.  8,  too,  is  a  had  question.  It  is  not 
important  that  one  should  remember  what  is  told  in  any 
particular  verse.  It  would  have  been  better  in  some  such 
form  as  this  : 

8.  What  arrangement  was  made  after  they  arrived  at  the 
mountain  ? 

In  order,  however,  that  my  readers  might  understand 
what  is  actually  attainable  by  young  persons  in  such  an 
exercise,  I  asked  a  boy  to  write  for  me  some  questions  on 
Acts  19,  and  I  insert  them  just  as  he  gave  them  to  me.  It 
was  his  first  attempt. 

"  When  Apollos  was  at  Corinth,  what  did  Paul  do  ? 
Whom  did  he  mid  there  ? 
What  did  he  say  to  them  ? 
What  answer  did  they  make  ? 
What  did  he  then  ask  them  ? 
What  did  they  say  ? 
What  did  Paul  then  say? 

When  Paul  had  laid  his  hands  upon  them,  what  happened  ? 
How- many  men  were  they? 
Where  did  Paul  then  go  ? 
What  did  he  do  ? 

What  did  he  do  when  divers  were  hardened  ? 
For  how  long  a  time  did  this  continue  ? 
What  happened  to  those  who  dwelt  in  Asia  ? 
By  whose  hands  did  God  perform  special  miracles  ? 
In  what  manner  did  Paul  heal  the  sick  ? 
What  is  said  in  the  thirteenth  verse  ? 
What  is  the  meaning  of  exorcist  ? 
How  many  were  there  that  did  so  ? 
What  did  the  evil  spirit  say  ?  ^ 

What  did  the  man  in  whom  was  the  evil  spirit  do  ? 
What  did  they  do  ? 
To  whom  was  this  known  ? 
What  fell  on  them  ? 
Whose  name  was  magnified  ? 


231  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

• 

What  did  many  do  who  "believed  ? 

What  did  many  do  who  used  curious  arts  ? 

After  these  things  were  ended,  what  did  Paul  design  to  do  ? 

Where  did  he  say  he  must  go  after  he  had  been  there  ? 

Whom  did  he  send  into  Macedonia  ? 

What  were  their  names  ? 

Where  did  he  stay? 

What  happened  at  that  time  ? 

What  was  the  cause  of  it  ? 

Who  was  Demetrius  ? 

What  accusation  did  he  bring  against  Paul  ? 

"What  did  he  say  was  in  danger  ? 

What  did  they  do  when  they  heard  these  things  ? 

What  happened  to  the  city  ? 

What  else  did  they  do  ? 

What  kept  Paul  from  going  in  to  the  people?''* 

"My  readers  will  all  see  that  these  questions  are,  many 
of  them,  quite  faulty.  A  second  attempt,  if  the  writer  had 
read  the  remarks  I  have  made,  or  if  he  had  actually  tried 
his  questions  upon  a  class,  would  probably  have  been  much 
better. 

If  any  person  will  attempt  such  an  exercise  as  tins,  he 
will  find  it  among  one  of  the  most  efficient  means  of  fixing 
upon  his  mind  the  facts  contained  in  any  portion  of  history, 
which  he  can  possibly  devise.  In  order  to  make  out  the 
question,  you  look  at  the  fact  in  various  aspects  and  relations. 
All  its  connections  are  considered,  and  the  mind  becomes 
thoroughly  familiarized  with  it ;  for  you  will  find,  after  a 
very  little  practice,  that  the  same  fact  may  be  made  the 
subject  of  a  great  number  of  different  questions,  and  looking 
at  these  and  choosing  between  them  is  a  most  valuable  in- 
tellectual exercise.  Take,  for  instance,  the  very  question  I 
have  already  spoken  of  particularly,  No.  8.  See  how  many 
different  questions,  or  rather,  in  how  many  forms,  some  bad 
and  some  good,  the  same  question  can  be  asked  upon  the 
Bingle  verse  to  which  it  relates. 


STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  235 

1.  What  did  Abraham  say  to  the  young  men  when  he 
reached  the  mountain  ? 

2.  What  plan  did  Abraham  form  when  he  reached  the 
mountain  ? 

3.  Did  all  the  party  go  together  to  the  place  where  Isaac 
was  to  be  offered  ? 

4.  How  was  the  party  divided  when  they  reached  the 
mountain  ? 

5.  How  many  persons  went  with  Abraham  to  the  place 
of  sacrifice  ? 

6.  When  Abraham  went  with  Isaac  alone  to  the  place 
of  sacrifice,  what  did  he  say  he  was  going  for  ? 

7.  When  Abraham  left  the  young  men  behind,  to  go  with 
Isaac  alone  to  the  place  of  sacrifice,  did  he  say  what  he  was 
going  to  do  ? 

8.  What  did  he  tell  them  he  was  going  to  do  ?  Was 
this  the  truth  ?  Was  it  the  whole  truth  ?  Are  we  always 
bound  to  tell  the  whole  truth  ? 

The  reader  will  thus  see  that  one  and  the  same  fact  may 
be  viewed  in  so  many  aspects  and  relations  as  to  suggest  a 
very  large  number  of  questions.  After  a  very  little  practice, 
several  questions  will  suggest  themselves  at  each  verse  to  any 
individual  who  attempts  the  exercise.  He  will  consider  which 
to  choose.  He  will  in  thus  considering,  necessarily  view  the 
fact  stated  under  its  various  aspects,  and  acquire  a  far  more 
thorough  and  permanent  knowledge  of  it  than  is  possible  in 
any  other  way.  So  great  is  the  advantage  of  this  method 
of  writing  questions  upon  a  book  which  the  pupil  desires 
thoroughly  to  understand,  that  it  is  not  unfrequently  adopted 
in  schools — each  pupil  of  a  class  being  required  to  write  ques- 
tions upon  a  part  or  upon  the  whole  of  a  lesson,  which  ques- 
tions are  then  read  and  answered  at  the  recitation. 

I  fancy  now  that  I  can  hear  some  one  of  my  readers,  of 
a  mind  somewhat  mature,  saying,  "  I  will  myself  try  this 


236  ThE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

experiment,  and  after  writing  the  questions,  I  will  read  them 
to  some  younger  members  of  trie  family,  to  see  if  they  can 
find  the  answers."  Perhaps  the  individual  who  resolves  on 
this  experiment  is  the  head  of  a  family — a  mother.  She 
gathers  her  children  around,  after  the  public  services  on  the 
Sabbath,  and  says  to  them.  "  AYe  will  study  a  chapter  in 
the  Bible.  I  will  study,  and  you  shall  study.  I  will  read 
it  carefully,  and  write  in  this  little  book  all  the  questions  I 
can  think  of;  and  you  at  the  same  time  may  read  it  atten- 
tively, and  try  to  understand  it,  and  remember  what  it  says. 
Then,  after  tea,  we  will  gather  around  the  table  before  our 
bright  fire,  and  I  will  read  my  questions,  and  you  may  see 
if  you  can  answer  them." 

The  children  enter  with  spirit  into  the  plan.  They  gath- 
er into  a  little  circle,  and  read  their  lesson  aloud,  verse  by 
verse,  questioning  each  other  in  regard  to  its  difficulties,  and 
endeavoring  to  anticipate  the  questions  which  the  mother  is 
preparing.  Even  the  little  Benjamin  of  the  family  is  inter- 
ested ;  who,  though  he  can  scarcely  read,  looks  attentively 
upon  his  Bible  with  the  large  print,  hoping  that  there  will 
be  some  easy  question  which  will  come  to  him. 

At  the  appointed  hour  they  gather  with  eager  interest 
to  their  recitation.  The  mother  finds  that  many  of  her  ques- 
tions are  ambiguous,  some  too  difficult,  and  others  could  not 
be  answered  from  fault  of  the  scholars  ;  still,  a  large  propor- 
tion are  understood  and  answered.  The  moral  lessons  of 
the  chapter  are  brought  to  view,  and  gently  but  forcibly 
impressed  upon  the  heart. 

Are  you  a  Sabbath-school  teacher  ?  Lay  aside  your 
printed  question-book  for  one  Sabbath,  and  write  questions 
yourself  upon  the  lesson  of  the  day.  Then  compare  what 
you  have  written  with  those  printed  for  your  use.  Strike 
out  from  your  own  list  all  which  are  upon  the  other,  and 
carry  the  rest  with  you  to  your  class,  and  say  to  your  pupi^3 
somewhat  as  follows  : 


STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  237 

"  I  have  been  writing  some  new  questions  on  this  les- 
son. Now  I  do  not  suppose  you  can  answer  many  of  them, 
because  you  did  not  have  them  while  you  were  studying. 
But  should  you  like  to  have  me  read  them  to  you,  and  let 
you  try  ?" 

You  will  in  such  a  case  find  the  curiosity  and  interest  of 
your  class  strongly  awakened ;  and  though  your  first  exper- 
iment may  not  fully  succeed,  you  may  say  to  them,  "  I  will 
write  some  more  for  next  week.  When  you  are  studying 
your  lessons  then,  I  should  like  to  have  you  remember  that 
I  am  writing  other  questions  than  those  in  the  book,  and 
endeavor  to  understand  and  remember  every  fact  stated  in 
the  lesson,  so  that  you  can  answer  all  my  questions  as  well 
as  the  printed  ones.  I  know  it  will  be  hard,  but  I  presume 
you  can  do  it." 

A  Sabbath-school  teacher  who  will  make  such  efforts  as 
these  to  render  his  work  more  intellectual,  and  to  interest 
himself  and  his  pupils  more  deeply  in  the  thorough  study  of 
their  lessons,  will  find  that  both  himself  and  his  pupils  will 
advance  with  at  least  double  rapidity. 

3.  Re-ivriting  portions  of  Scripture.  Read,  or  rather 
study  some  portion  of  Scripture  thoroughly,  and  then  write 
the  substance  of  it  in  your  own  language.  I  can  illustrate 
this  best,  perhaps,  by  repeating  the  following  dialogue.  It 
is,  I  will  suppose,  Sabbath  evening :  the  family  are  going  out, 
and  one  son,  a  boy  of  fourteen,  is  to  be  left  at  home. 

"  What  shall  I  do  this  evening  ?"  asks  the  son. 

"  What  would  you  like  to  do  ?" 

"  I  don't  know.  I  am  to  be  all  the  evening  alone,  and  I 
want  something  to  employ  my  time." 

The  father  turns  to  the  fifth  chapter  of  Luke,  and 
says, 

"Take  this  chapter,  read  the  first  eleven  verses,  and 
form  a  clear  and  distinct  conception  of  the  whole  scene,  just 
as  if  you  had  witnessed  it.     Then  write  an  account  of  it  in 


238  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

your  own  language.  Be  careful  to  write  entirely  in  your 
own  language." 

"Must  I  not  use  the  language  of  the  Bible  at  all?" 

"  No.  You  have  two  separate  things  to  do.  First  read 
the  account  attentively  and  thoroughly,  in  order  to  form  in 
your  own  mind  a  distinct  picture  of  the  whole — Try  to  see 
~it  as  plainly  as  if  you  had  stood  upon  the  bank,  and  actually 
looked  down  upon  the  whole  transaction.  Then  shut  your 
Bible,  and  write  your  own  account  of  it,  just  as  if  you  were 
writing  a  letter  to  me,  and  describing  something  which  you 
had  yourself  seen." 

Now  suppose  the  boy  engages  in  this  work  in  the  man- 
ner described  above,  with  how  much  more  interest  than 
usual  will  he  read  the  passage.  He  will  scrutinize  it  care- 
fully, examine  every  circumstance  of  the  narrative  minutely, 
and  notice  many  points  of  interest  which  would  ordinarily 
escape  him. 

Once  when  I  asked  a  lad,  under  similar  circumstances 
to  the  above,  to  re-write  this  passage,  he  had  not  been  five 
minutes  at  his  work  before  he  came  with  a  question  which 
I  presume  hundreds  of  my  readers  have  never  thought  to 
ask,  though  they  all  have  doubtless  read  the  passage  again 
and  again.     I  will  first  give  the  passage. 

LUKE  5:1-11. 

"  1 .  And  it  came  to  pass,  that  as  the  people  pressed  upon  him 
to  hear  the  word  of  God,  he  stood  by  the  lake  of  Gennesaret, 

"  2.  And  saw  two  ships  standing  by  the  lake :  but  the  fisher- 
men were  gone  out  of  them,  and  were  washing  their  nets. 

"  3.  And  he  entered  into  one  of  the  ships,  which  was  Simon's, 
and  prayed  him  that  he  would  thrust  out  a  little  fn>m  the  land. 
And  he  sat  down,  and  taught  the  people  out  of  the  ship. 

"  4.  Now,  when  he  had  left  speaking,  he  said  unto  Simon, 
Launch  out  into  the  deep,  and  let  down  your  nets  for  a  draught. 

"  5.  And  Simon  answering,  said  unto  him,  Master,  we  have 
toiled  all  the  night,  and  have  taken  nothing;  nevertheless,  at 
thy  word.  I  will  let  down  the  net. 


STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  239 

"  6.  And  when  they  had  this  done,  they  enclosed  a  great 
multitude  of  fishes :  and  their  net  brake. 

u7.  And  they  beckoned  unto  their  partners,  which  were  in 
the  other  ship,  that  they  should  come  and  help  them.  And  they 
came,  and  filled  both  the  ships,  so  that  they  began  to  sink. 

"8.  When  Simon  Peter  saw  it,  he  fell  down  at  Jesus'  knees, 
saying,  Depart  from  me;  for  I  am  a  sinful  man,  0  Lord. 

"  9.  For  he  was  astonished,  and  all  that  were  with  him,  at 
the  draught  of  the  fishes  which  they  had  taken : 

"10.  And  so  was  also  James  and  John  the  sons  of  Zebedee, 
which  were  partners  with  Simon.  And  Jesus  said  unto  Simon, 
Fear  not :  from  henceforth  thou  shalt  catch  men. 

"11.  And  when  they  had  brought  their  ships  to  land,  they 
forsook  all,  and  followed  him." 

The  difficulty  proposed  was  this  : 

"  In  the  second  verse,"  says  he,  "it  is  said,  that  the  fish- 
ermen had  gone  out  of  their  boats,  and  were  washing  their 
nets ;  but  in  the  third,  Christ  enters  one  of  them  and  asks 
Simon  to  move  off  a  little  from  the  shore :  that  seems  as  if 
Simon  was  in  his  boat." 

How  apparent  was  it  from  this  question,  that  he  was 
reading  the  Bible  understandingly,  and  not  merely  repeating 
once  more  the  familiar  sounds  by  which  the  scenes  of  that 
passage  are  described.  Upon  a  little  reflection  it  was  mani- 
fest that  Simon  might  have  remained  in  his  boat,  while  the 
fishermen  generally  had  gone  ashore  ;  or  he  might  have 
stood  near,  so  as  to  be  easily  addressed  by  the  Saviour.  The 
difficulty  vanished  in  a  moment.  But  by  the  ordinary,  dull,  ■■/ y 
sluggish  reading  cf  the  Bible^koth  difficulty  and  solution 
would  have  been  alike  unseen. 

The  following  was  the  description  produced  in  this  case : 
I  copy  it  without  alteration,  that  my  readers  may  see,  from 
actual  inspection  of  an  actual  example,  what  degree  of  suc- 
cess they  may  expect  to  attain. 

"  Once,  as  Jesus  was  standing  near  a  lake  called  Gennesaret, 
a  great  multitude  crowded  around  him,  wishing  to  have  him 


240  THE   roiJNa  CHRISTIAN. 

address  them.  He  saw  near  the  shore  two  fishing- vessels,  but 
the  fishermen  had  gone  away  to  clean  their  nets.  He  went  into 
one  of  them,  which  belonged  to  Simon,  and  asked  him  to  shove 
the  vessel  out  a  little  way  into  the  water,  and  he  talked  to  the 
people  from  the  deck.  When  he  had  finished,  he  told  Simon  to 
go  out  into  the  sea  and  cast  in  their  nets,  in  order  to  get  some 
fish.  And  Simon  said  to  him,  we  have  been  working  all  night, 
and  have  not  caught  any  thing ;  but  as  you  have  desired  it,  we 
will  let  down  our  nets  again.  Having  done  it,  they  took  a  great 
many  fishes,  and  their  net  was  broken,  and  there  were  so  many 
fishes  that  both  ships  were  filled  and  began  to  sink.  Simon  was 
bo  much  astonished,  and  they  that  were  with  him,  at  taking  so 
many  fishes  this  time,  when  they  had  been  laboring  all  night  and 
caught  nothing,  that  (he  fell  down  before  Jesus,  saying,  Depart 
from  me,  for  I  am  a  sinful  man.)  Simon's  companions,  James 
and  John,  were  also  surprised  at  the  fishes.  And  when  they  had 
brought  their  ships  to  the  shore,  they  left  all  their  things  and 
followed  Jesus." 

The  part  enclosed  in  a  parenthesis  is  scripture  language. 
The  boy  said  lie  could  not  express  that  idea  in  any  other 
way,  and  he  adopted  that  method  of  indicating  that  the  lan- 
guage of  the  Bible  was  in  that  clause  retained. 

I  have  obtained  also  several  other  specimens  of  a  similar 
character,  written  by  persons  of  different  ages  and  of  various 
intellectual  attainments,  two  or  three  of  which  I  will  insert 
here.  The  reader  will  observe  that  these  were  written  by 
persons  of  very  different  degrees  of  mental  maturity.  The 
style  is  very  dissimilar  in  the  different  specimens,  and  they 
show  therefore  more  distinctly,  that  /the  exercise  is  of  such 
a  nature  as  to  be  adapted  to  every  age  and  capacity. 

THE  STORY  OF  MICAH. 
c:  A  woman  belonging  to  one  of  the  tribes  of  the  Israelites, 
from  a  mistaken  idea  of  true  religion,  resolved  to  procure  some 
images  for  her  household  worship,  intending  to  consecrate  her 
son  to  act  as  priest.  She  accordingly  dedicated  to  the  Lord  the 
sum  to  be  paid  for  making  the  images,  and  laid  it  aside  for  the 
purpose.     This  money  was  stolen  from  her  by  Micah,  the  very 


STUDY  OF   THE   BIBLE.  241 

son  for  whose  benefit  chiefly  she  had  formed  the  plan.  Upon 
missing  the  money,  she  was  greatly  enraged,  and  pronounced,  in 
the  hearing  of  her  son,  the  severest  imprecations  upon  the  sacri- 
legious thief.  This  so  terrified  Micah,  that  he  confessed  his 
crime  and  restored  the  money  to  his  mother.  Her  joy  was  very 
great  at  receiving  again  her  treasure.  She  told  her  son  to  what 
purpose  it  was  appropriated,  and  they  accordingly  procured  the 
images.  It  was  agreed,  that  instead  of  Micah,  one  of  his  sons 
should  act  as  priest,  until  a  more  suitable  person  should  be  ob- 
tained. The  son  was  accordingly  provided  with  sacerdotal  ap- 
parel and  consecrated  to  the  priesthood. 

"Under  these  circumstances  the  idol-worship  went  on  for 
some  time,  until  there  came  one  day  to  the  house  of  Micah  a 
wandering  Levite,  by  the  name  of  Jonathan.  This  man  seemed 
to  be  out  of  employment,  and  being  of  the  Levites,  the  tribe  set 
apart  for  the  holy  offices,  Micah  thought  he  should  do  well  to 
retain  him  as  his  family  priest.  Accordingly  he  made  to  him 
proposals  to  this  effect,  offering  him  for  his  services  his  board, 
one  suit  of  clothes,  and  a  small  sum  of  money  a  year.  Jonathan 
very  gladly  agreed  to  these  terms,  and  was  forthwith  constituted 
priest. 

'•'It  happened  soon  after,  that  there  came  to  Micalvs  house  a 
number  of  men  who  had  been  sent  out  by  the  tribe  of  Dan  to 
survey  the  adjacent  country,  with  a  view  to  enlarging  their  own 
territories.  When  these  men  came  to  Micah's  house,  they  rec- 
ognized with  surprise  the  voice  of  the  newly-consecrated  priest. 
They  inquired  how  he  came  there,  and  what  he  was  about.  The 
Levite  told  them  his  story,  and  the  Danites  seem  to  have  regard- 
ed the  circumstances  of  the  affair  as  perfectly  proper;  for  they 
even  requested  that  he  would  inquire  of  the  Lord  for  them,  if 
they  should  meet  with  success  in  their  present  expedition.  The 
Levite  pretended  to  make  the  inquiry,  and  returned  to  them  a 
favorable  answer.  The  event  was  such  as  the  Levite  predicted. 
The  Danites  succeeded  in  driving  before  them  the  inhabitants  of 
the  territories  they  wished  to  possess.  After  the  conquest,  as  the 
army  were  passing  the  house  of  Micah,  the  five  men  who  had 
first  been  sent  out,  and  who  had  stopped  at  this  house,  informed 
the  others  that  there  were  in  it  a  graven  and  a  molten  image, 
and  a  priest  with  an  ephod ;  and  perhaps  intimating,  that  in  their 
new  settlement  they  would  themselves  need  such  an  establish- 

Y.  Christian.  1 1 


242  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

ment.  they  inquired  what  had  best  he  done.  After  some  delib- 
eration, if  was  agreed  forcibly  to  take  from  Micah  his  images 
and  the  sacerdotal  garments,  and  to  entice  the  priest  to  go  with 
them.  Accordingly,  while  the  rest  of  the  army  remained  as 
guards  at  the  entrance  of  the  house,  the  five  men  before  men- 
tioned went  in  and  commenced  their  depredations.  The  priest 
inquired  in  amazement  what  they  were  about.  'Hush,7  said 
the  men ;  '  say  nothing,  and  go  with  us ;  will  it  not  be  more  to 
your  advantage  to  be  the  priest  of  a  whole  tribe  than  of  only  one 
man?'  The  Levitewas  overjoyed  at  the  proposal,  and  prepared 
immediately  to  set  out  with  them. 

"  Great  was  the  dismay  of  Micah  upon  finding  himself  thus 
robbed  of  priest  and  gods.  He  called  his  neighbors  to  his  assist- 
ance, and  collecting  a  small  company  together,  he  went  in  pur- 
suit of  the  depredators.  As  he  approached  the  army,  they  in- 
quired of  him  why  he  had  come  out  with  such  a  company. 
'  What  ails  you?'  said  they.  l  WJiat  ails  meP  replied  Micah; 
'  you  have  taken  from  me  my  priest  and  my  gods,  and  now  you 
ask.  l  What  ails  me  V  -  You  had  better  return  to  your  house,' 
said  some  one  of  the  number,  'or  you  will  lose  your  life.'  See- 
ing that  there  was  no  possibility  of  prevailing  against  hundreds 
of  armed  men,  Micah  took  the  advice  of  the  Danite  and  returned 
home. 

"Meanwhile  the  army  of  the  Danites  pursued  their  way  to 
the  place  of  their  destination,  where  they  established  the  wor- 
ship of  their  stolen  images,  under  the  direction  of  the  runaway 
priest." 

The  two  following  are  upon  the  same  subject,  but  the 
writers  were  eleven  and  seventeen  years  of  age.  They  are 
accordingly  very  different  in  their  style  and  character. 

BELSHAZZAR'S  FEAST. 

'■'The  king  of  Babylon,  named  Belshazzar,  made  a  great 
feast  for  all  his  lords,  his  wives  and  concubines.  And  he  sent 
and  took  from  the  house  of  the  Lord  the  golden  and  silver  vessels, 
and  he  and  his  company  drank  wine  out  of  them.  While  they 
were  enjoying  in  impious  mirth  the  feast,  the  fingers  of  a  man's 
hand  were  seen  on  the  plastering  of  the  wall,  over  against  the 
candlestick.     Then  was  the  king  very  much  frightened,  and  his 


STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  243 

knees  smote  against  each  other.  He  sent  for  all  the  wise  men 
in  the  kingdom  to  read  the  writing,  but  they  could  not.  Then 
he  called  aloud  again,  If  any  man  can  read  it  he  shall  be  clothed 
in  scarlet,  and  have  a  chain  of  gold  around  his  neck,  and  shall 
be  the  third  ruler  in  the  kingdom.  Then  came  in  his  wife  the 
queen  to  tell  him  that  there  was  a  man  who  could  interpret 
dreams,  whose  name  was  Daniel.  He  read  the  writing.  Mene — 
God  hath  finished  thy  kingdom.  Tekel— Thou  art  weighed,  and 
art  found  wanting. 

"  Peres— Thy  kingdom  is  given  to  the  Medes  and  Persians. 
Then  was  a  proclamation  made,  that  he  was  the  third  ruler  in 
the  kingdom. 

"  And  the  same  night  the  king  died." 

STORY  OF  BELSHAZZAR. 

':It  was  night;  but  the  usual  stillness  of  that  hour  was 
broken  by  the  sounds  of  feasting  and  revelry.     It  had  been  a  fes- 
tival day  in  Babylon,  and  the  inhabitants  had  not  yet  sunk  into 
repose.     The  song  and  the  dance  still  continued,  and  the  voice 
of  music  was  heard.     All  seemed  in  perfect  security,  and  no 
precautions  had  been  taken  to  avoid  the  danger  which  hung  over 
their  devoted  heads.     An  invading  army  was,  even  then,  sur- 
rounding the  walls  of  the  city;  but  those  who  ought  to  have 
defended  it,  confident  and  secure,  left  it  unguarded  and  exposed 
to  the  attacks  of  the  enemy.     Fear  was  excluded  even  from  the 
walls  of  the  palace,  and  the  monarch  was  giving  his  own  exam- 
ple of  rioting  and  mirth  to  his  subjects.     A  thousand  of  the  no- 
blest lords  in  his  kingdom  were  feasting  with  him  as  his  invited 
guests.     They  had  already  '  tarried  long  at  the  wine,'  when  Bel- 
shazzar,  in  the  pride  and  impiety  of  his  heart,  commanded  his 
servants  to  bring  the  silver  and  golden  vessels  which  had  been 
taken  by  his  grandfather  Nebuchadnezzar  from  the  temple  at 
Jerusalem.     They  were  brought,  and  filled  with  wine :  and  as 
they  drank  it,  they  extolled  their  gods  of  wood  and  of  stone. 

"  But  while  they  were  thus  sacrilegiously  employed,  their 
mirth  was  suddenly  changed  into  amazement  and  consternation. 
A  hand  like  that  of  a  man  was  seen  to  write  upon  the  wall  of 
the  palace :  and  as  they  gazed  upon  it,  it  traced  the  sentence, 
1  Mene.  Mene,  Tekel,  Upharsin.'  No  one  among  that  vast  com- 
pany understood  its  meaning,  but  to  their  affrighted  imagination 


244  THE   YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

it  was  full  of  portentous  import.  The  king,  who  was  exceed- 
ingly terrified,  sent  in  haste  for  all  the  astrologers,  and  those 
persons  in  whose  powers  of  divination  he  had  been  accustomed 
to  place  confidence ;  but  none  could  explain  the  mysterious  warn- 
ing. At  this  juncture  the  queen  entered,  and  informed  the  king 
that  Daniel  was  in  the  city,  and  that  he  was  supposed  to  possess 
the  wisdom  of  the  gods.  He  was  hastily  summoned  into  the 
royal  presence,  and  after  reproving  the  trembling  and  condemned 
monarch  for  the  pride  of  heart  which  he  had  manifested,  reveal- 
ed to  him  the  doom  which  was  pronounced  upon  him.  He  told 
him,  that  his  kingdom  and  his  own  life  were  nearly  at  a  close ; 
that  his  empire  should  be  divided  between  the  Medes  and  Per- 
sians; and  also,  that  his  own  character  had  been  examined,  and 
found  lamentably  deficient. 

"  The  reward  which  had  been  promised  was  now  bestowed 
upon  Daniel.  He  was  arrayed  in  a  kingly  robe,  adorned  with  a 
golden  chain,  and  proclaimed  the  third  in  authority  in  the  king- 
dom. Ere  the  next  rising  sun  Belshazzar  was  numbered  with 
the  dead." 

QUESTIONS. 

At  what  time  and  under  what  circumstances  had  the  golden  and 
silver  vessels  been  taken  from  the  temple  at  Jerusalem  ? 

In  what  language  was  the  writing  upon  the  wall ;  and  why  could 
no  one  of  the  wise  men  of  Babylon  interpret  it  ? 

Why  were  the  Chaldeans  included  among  the  astrologers  and 
soothsayers  ? 

The  original  writing  was,  "Mene,  Mene,  Tekel,  Upharsin;"  why, 
in  the  interpretation,  is  Peres  substituted  for  Upharsin  ? 

It  is  a  very  good  plan  to  write  questions  at  the  close  of 
such  an  exercise  as  in  the  last  specimen,  bringing  up  diffi- 
culties which  have  occurred  to  the  writer  while  reading  and 
writing  the  account.  These  questions  can  be  subsequently 
proposed  to  some  person  qualified  to  answer  them.  The 
whole  plan  may  be  adopted  more  or  less  extensively,  accord- 
ing to  the  time  and  taste  of  the  individual.  I  knew  a  vounjr 
man  who  re- wrote  the  whole  book  of  the  Act*  in  this  way. 
The  result  he  preserved  in  a  neat  manuscript,  and  the  effort 
undoubtedly  impressed  the  facts  on  his  memory  with  a  dis- 
tinctness which  remained  for  years. 


STUDY  OF  THE  BiBLE.  245 

4.  Collating:  the  Scriptures.  The  next  method  I  shall 
describe,  by  which  variety  and  efficiency  can  be  given  to 
your  study  of  the  Scriptures,  may  be  called  collation.  It 
^consists  of  carefully  comparing  two  or  more  different  accounts 
of  the  same  transaction. 

To  illustrate  it,  I  will  imagine  that  two  young  persons 
sit  down  on  a  Sabbath  afternoon  by  their  fireside  to  read 
the  Bible,  and  they  conclude  to  collate  the  several  accounts 
of  Paul's  conversion.  To  show  that  this  exercise  does  not 
require  any  advanced  age,  or  maturity  of  mind,  I  will  imagine 
that  the  scholars  are  quite  young,  and  will  give  in  detail  the 
conversation,  as  wre  might  imagine  it  in  such  a  case  to  be. 
We  will  suppose  James  to  be  thirteen  or  fourteen  years  of 
age,  and  John  some  years  younger. 

John.     "  Well,  what  shall  we  read  ?" 

James.  "  I  think  it  would  be  a  good  plan  for  us  to  read 
and  compare  the  two  accounts  of  the  conversion  of  Paul. 
Here  is  the  first  account  in  the  ninth  chapter  of  the  Acts, 
and  I  believe  he  afterwards  gave  some  account  of  it  himself 
in  his  speech." 

John.     "  What  speech  ?" 

James.  "  Some  speech  he  made  at  his  trial.  I  will  try  to 
find  it ;  it  is  somewhere  in  the  last  part  of  the  book  of  Acts." 

The  boys  turn  over  the  leaves  of  their  Bibles,  until  at 
last  James  says, 

"  Here  it  is ;  I  have  found  it :  it  is  in  the  twenty-sixth 
chapter." 

"  No,"  says  John,  "  it  is  in  the  twenty-second  ;  it  begins 
at  the  fourth  verse." 

James.  "  Let  me  see  it.  0,  there  are  two  accounts  in 
his  speeches  :  that  makes  three  in  all.  Would  you  compare 
them  all  ?" 

John.  "  Yes ;  we  can  put  our  fingers  into  all  the  places, 
and  read  one  verse  of  one,  and  then  one  verse  of  another, 
and  so  go  through." 


246  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

James.  "  "Well,  let  us  see  where  these  two  speeches 
were  made." 

The  boys  then  examine  the  introductory  remarks  connect- 
ed with  these  two  addresses  of  the  apostle,  and  learn  before 
whom  and  under  what  circumstances  they  were  made,  and 
then  proceed  with  their  comparison. 

James.     "  I  will  read  first  in  the  ninth  chapter. 

"'1.  And  Saul,  yet  breathing  out  threatening  s  and 
slaughter  against  the  disciples  of  the  Lord,  went  unto  the 
high-priest, 

" '  2.  And  desired  of  him  letters  to  Damascus  to  the 
synagogues,  that  if  he  found  any  of  this  way,  whether  they 
were  men  or  women,  he  might  bring  them  bound  unto  Jeru- 
salem.' 

"  Now  you  may  read  as  much,"  he  continues,  "in  thf» 
twenty-second  chapter." 

John.     "  Where  shall  I  begin  ?" 

James.  Looking  at  the  passage  :  "At  the  fifth  verse,  I 
believe." 

John.  Reading:  "  '  5.  As  also  the  high-priest  both  bear 
me  witness,  and  all  the  estate  of  the  elders ;  from  whom 
also  I  received  letters  unto  the  brethren,  and  went  to  Damas- 
cus, to  bring  them  whieh  were  there  bound  unto  Jerusalem, 
for  to  be  punished.' 

"Do  you  see  any  difference,  James?" 

James.  "  Yes  ;  there  are  two  differences  :  it  says  in  the 
first  account,  that  he  took  letters  from  the  high-priest ;  and 
in  the  second,  from  the  elders  too — all  the  estate  of  the 
elders.  It  says  too,  in  the  first  account,  that  his  letters  were 
to  the  synagogues,  but  in  the  second,  that  they  were  to  the 
brethren." 

Boys  of  twelve  years  of  age  would  probably  see  no  farther 
than  to  notice  such  obvious  points  of  comparison  as  those  I 
have  mentioned  ;  but  a  maturer  mind,  attempting  this  same 
exercise,   would  go   far  deeper,   and    consequently  with  a 


STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  247 

stronger  interest,  into  the  subject.  Such  an  one  will  take 
great  pleasure  in  observing  how  every  expression  in  the 
account  in  the  twenty-second  chapter  corresponds  with  the 
circumstances  in  winch  Paul  was  placed.  He  was  in  Jeru- 
salem. A  great  popular  tumult  had  been  excited  against 
him.  A  few  of  his  determined  enemies  had,  by  the  arts 
with  which  it  is  always  easy  for  bad  men  to  inflame  the 
multitude,  urged  them  on  almost  to  fury,  and  an  immense 

A. 

throng  had  gathered  around  him,  with  the  marks  of  the 
most  determined  hostility  in  their  looks  and  gestures  and 
actions.  At  this  moment  a  Roman  military  force  appeared 
for  his  rescue ;  he  was  drawn  out  from  the  crowd,  and  stand- 
ing upon  the  stairs  of  the  castle,  above  the  tumultuous  sea 
from  which  he  had  been  saved,  he  attempts  to  address  the 
assembly. 

He  had  been  represented  to  the  crowd  as  a  foreigner — 
an  Egyptian,  who  had  come  to  Jerusalem  to  excite  sedition 
and  tumult ;  and  of  course  his  first  aim  would  naturally  be 
to  destroy  this  impression,  and  present  himself  before  this 
assembly  as  their  fellow-countryman — one  who  had  long 
resided  among  them,  and  had  regarded  them  as  brethren. 
How  natural  is  it,  therefore,  that  he  should  speak  so  distinctly 
of  his  connection  with  the  Jewish  nation.  He  commences 
his  account  with  the  statement  that  he  is  a  Jew — by  birth, 
by  education,  and  by  feelings.  This  peculiarity  in  the  speak- 
er's condition  accounts  most  fully  and  in  a  most  interesting 
manner  for  the  difference  between  the  expressions  which  he 
uses  here,  and  those  used  in  the  ninth  chapter.  Where,  in 
the  narrative,  the  high-priest  only  was  alluded  to — in  the 
defence,  the  speaker  mentions  respectfully  all  the  estate  of 
the  elders.  The  historian,  employing  the  simple  historical 
style,  says  that  Paul  went  with  letters  to  the  synagogues. 
The  orator,  in  his  effort  to  allay  irritated  feeling,  uses  the 
word  brethren — a  term  equally  correct,  but  far  more  suitable 
to  his  purpose. 


248  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

I  make  tnese  remarks,  not  to  go  into  a  commentary  upon 
Paul's  speech,  but  to  show  what  kind  of  reflections  will  occur 
to  an  intelligent  mind,  in  thus  collating  different  portions  of 
the  sacred  volume.  Notice  every  difference ;  and  endeavor 
to  discover,  in  the  circumstances  of  the  case,  its  cause.  You 
will  find  by  so  doing  that  new  and  striking  beauties  will  arise 
to  view  at  every  step  ;  [the  pages  of  the  Bible  will  look 
brighter  and  brighter,' with  meaning  hitherto  unseen,  and 
you  will  find  new  exhibitions  of  character  and  conduct  so 
natural  and  yet  so  simple  as  to  constitute  almost  irresistible 
evidence  of  the  reality  of  the  scenes  which  the  sacred  history 
describes. 

There  are  a  great  many  of  the  events  of  which  two  dif- 
ferent accounts  are  given  in  the  Bible,  which  may  be  advan- 
tageously collated  in  the  manner  I  have'  described.  In  hopes 
that  some  of  my  readers  will  study  the  Scriptures  in  this 
way,  I  enumerate  some  of  them. 

LESSONS. 

Solomon's  choice.      1  Kings  and  2  Chronicles. 

Dedication  of  the  Temple.      1  Kings,  2  Chronicles 

Revolt  of  the  ten  tribes.     1  Kings,  2  Chronicles 

Story  of  Elisha.    ' 

Story  of  Elijah. 

Story  of  Hezekiah.     Kings,  Chronicles,  and  Isaiah. 

Genealogical  line  from  Adam  to  Abkaham.  Genesis 
and  1  Chronicles. 

Catalogue  of  the  Kings  of  Israel.  Kings  and  Chron- 
icles. 

Catalogue  of  the  Kings  of  Judah.  Kings  and  Chron- 
icles. 

Preaching  of  John  the  Baptist.  Matthew,  Mark, 
Luke,  and  John. 

The  Temptation  of  Christ.  Matthew,  Mark,  and 
Luke 


STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  249 

The  Saviour's  Arrest.     Four  Evangelists. 
His  Trial.     Four  Evangelists. 
His  Death.     Four  Evangelists.      v 
His  Resurrection.     Four  Evangelists. 
Institution   of    the    Lord's    Supper.      Matthew  and 
1  Corinthians. 

Genealogy  of  Christ.     Matthew  and  Luke. 

The  above  subjects  differ  very  much  in  the  degree  of 
intellectual  effort  necessary  for  their  examination,  and  in 
nearly  all  the  reader  will  often  be  involved  in  difficulties 
which  he  cannot  easily  remove.  If  we  merely  read  the 
Bible,  chapter  after  chapter,  in  a  sluggish  and  formal  man- 
ner, we  see  little  to  interest  us  aiid  little  to  perplex  ;  but  in 
the  more  thorough  and  scrutinizing  mode  of  study  which  I 
here  suggest,  both  by  this  mode  and  the  others  I  have  been 
describing,  we  shall  find  beauties  and  difficulties  coming  up 
together.  Let  every  one  then  who  undertakes  such  a  colla- 
tion of  different  accounts,  expect  difficulty.  Do  not  be  sur- 
prised at  apparent  contradictions  hi  the  narrative ;  you  will 
find  many.  Do  not  be  surprised  when  you  find  various  cir- 
cumstances hi  the  different  accounts  which  you  find  it  im- 
possible for  you  to  bring  together  into  one  view ;  you  must 
expect  such  difficulties.  Look  at  them  calmly  and  patiently ; 
seek  solutions  from  commentaries  and  from  older  Christians, 
and  what  you  cannot  by  these  means  understand,  quietly 
leave.  A  book  which,  under  divine  guidance,  employed  the 
pens  of  from  fifty  to  a  hundred  writers — scattered  through  a 
period  of  four  thousand  years  ;  whose  scenes  extend  over  a 
region  of  immense  extent,  and  whose  narratives  are  involved 
with  the  most  minute  history  of  all  the  great  nations  of  an- 
tiquity— Babylon,  Assyria,  Persia,  Greece,  and  Rome — such 
a  book  you  must  not  expect  to  understand  fully  in  a  day. 

5.   Studyiiig  by  subjects.      Select   some  subject  upon 

which  a  good  deal  of  information  may  be  found  in  various 

11* 


250  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

parts  of  the  Bible,  and  make  it  your  object  to  bring  together 
into  one  view  all  that  the  Bible  says  upon  that  subject. 
Take,  for  instance,  the  life  of  the  apostle  Peter.  Suppose  you 
make  it  your  business  on  one  Sabbath,  with  the  help  of  a 
brother,  or  sister,  or  any  other  friend  who  will  unite  with 
you  in  the  work,  to  obtain  all  the  information  which  the 
Bible  gives  in  regard  to  him.  By  the  help  of  the  Concord- 
ance you  find  all  the  places  in  which  he  is  mentioned — you 
compare  the  various  accounts  in  the  four  gospels  ;  see  in 
what  they  agree  and  in  what  they  differ.  After  following 
down  his  history  as  far  as  the  evangelists  bring  it,  you  take 
up  the  book  of  the  Acts,  and  go  through  that  for  informa- 
tion hi  regard  to  this  apostle,  omitting  those  parts  which 
relate  to  other  subjects.  In  this  way  you  become  fully  ac- 
quainted with  his  character  and  history  ;  you  understand  it 
as  a  whole. 

Jerusalem  is  another  good  subject,  and  the  examination 
would  afford  scope  for  the  exercise  of  the  faculties  of  the 
highest  minds  for  many  Sabbaths  :  find  when  the  city  is  first 
named  ;  and  from  the  maimer  hi  which  it  is  mentioned,  and 
the  circumstances  connected  with  the  earliest  accounts  of  it, 
ascertain  what  sort  of  a  city  it  was  at  that  time.  Then  follow 
its  history  down ;  notice  the  changes  as  they  occur  ;  under- 
stand every  revolution  ;  examine  the  circumstances  of  every 
battle  and  siege  of  which  it  is  the  scene,  and  thus  become 
acquainted  with  its  whole  story  down  to  the  time  when  the 
sacred  narration  leaves  it.  To  do  this  well,  will  require 
patient  and  careful  investigation.  You  cannot  do  it  as  you 
can  read  a  chapter,  carelessly  and  with  an  unconcerned  and 
uninterested  mind ;  you  must,  if  you  would  succeed  in  such 
an  investigation,  engage  in  it  in  earnest.  And  that  is  the 
very  advantage  of  such  a  method  of  study  ;  it  breaks  up 
effectually  that  habit  of  listless,  dull,  inattentive  reading  of 
the  Bible  which  so  extensively  prevails. 

You  may  take  the  subject  of  the  Sabbath;  examine  the 


STUDY  OF  THE  BIB 


TO  If!        23SIT" 


circumstances  of  its  first  appointment,  and  then  follow  its 
history  down,  so  far  as  it  is  given  in  the  Bible,  to  the  last 
Sabbath  alluded  to  on  the  sacred  pages. 

The  variety  of  topics  which  might  profitably  be  studied 
in  this  way  is  vastly  greater  than  would  at  first  be  supposed. 
There  are  a  great  number  of  biographical  and  geographical 
topics — a  great  number  winch  relate  to  manners,  and  cus- 
toms, and  sacred  institutions.  In  fact,  the  whole  Bible  may 
be  analyzed  in  this  way,  and  its  various  contents  brought 
before  the  mind  hi  new  aspects,  and  with  a  freshness  and 
vividness  which,  in  the  mere  repeated  reading  of  the  Scrip- 
tures in  regular  course,  can  never  be  seen.  It  may  assist 
the  reader  who  is  disposed  to  try  the  experiment,  if  I  pre- 
sent a  small  list ;  it  might  be  extended  easily  to  any 
length. 

BIOGRAPHICAL   TOPICS. 

Hezekiah.  Isaiah.  Peter. 

Daniel.  Jeremiah.  Nicodemus. 

Elijah.  Herod.  Judas. 

Elisha.  John  the  Baptist. 

GEOGRAPHICAL  AND  HISTORICAL  TOPICS. 
Jerusalem.  Jordan.  Sidon. 

Egypt.  Damascus.  Philistines. 

Nile.  Samaria.  Moabites. 

Babylon.  Sea  of  Galilee.  Ammonites. 

Red  Sea.  Tyre.  Ethiopia. 

TOPICS  RELATING  TO  RELIGIOUS  RITES. 
Sacrifices.  Passover.  Baptism. 

Sabbath.  Fasting.  Lord's  Supper 

Pentecost.  Ark  of  the  Covenant.   Synagogues. 

Feast  of  Tabernacles.  Tabernacle. 

There  are  various  other  methods  which  might  be  men 
tioned  and  described ;  but  enough  has  been  said  to  enable, 


252  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

I  think,  any  one  who  is  disposed,  to  engage  at  once,  for  a 
short  time  each  Sabbath,  in  such  an  intellectual  study  of 
the  Bible.  Parents  can  try  the  experiments  I  have  above 
described  in  their  families  ;  and  Sabbath-school  teachers  can 
try  them  in  their  classes.  Sabbath- schools  would  be  aston- 
ishingly improved  at  once,  if  the  teachers  would  put  their 
ingenuity  into  requisition  to  devise  and  execute  new  plans, 
so  as  to  give  variety  to  the  exercises.  There  would  be  a 
spirit  and  interest  exhibited,  both  by  teacher  and  pupil, 
which  the  mere  servile  reading  of  printed  questions,  and 
listening  to  answers  mechanically  learned,  never  can  pro- 
duce. 

There  is  far  too  little  of  this  intellectual  study  of  the 
Bible,  even  among  the  most  devoted  Christians.  Its  litera- 
ture, its  history,  its  biography,  the  connection  of  its  parts — 
all  are  very  little  understood.  It  is  indeed  true,  that  the 
final  aim  of  the  Bible  is  to  teach  us  perso?ial  religious  duty. 
It  comes  to  the  conscience,  not  to  the  literary  taste  of  men; 
and  is  designed  to  guide  their  devotions,  not  to  gratify  their 
curiosity,  or  their  love  of  historic  truth.  But  why  is  it 
that  God  has  chosen  the  historic  form,  as  a  means  of  com- 
municating his  truth  ?  Why  is  it  that  his  communications 
with  mankind  were  for  so  many  years  so  completely  involved 
with  the  political  history  of  a  powerful  nation,  that  its 
whole  history  must  be  given  ?  Why  is  our  Saviour's  mis- 
sion so  connected  with  the  Roman  government,  and  all  this 
connection  so  fully  detailed  that  no  inconsiderable  portion 
of  the  geography  and  customs  and  laws  of  that  mighty 
empire  are  detailed  in  the  evangelists  and  Acts  ?  The 
moral  lessons  which  our  Saviour  taught  might  have  been 
presented  in  their  simple  didactic  form.  The  whole  plan  of 
salvation,  through  the  sufferings  of  a  Redeemer,  might  have 
been  given  us  in  one  single  statement,  instead  of  leaving 
us  to  gather  it  piece  by  piece  from  multitudes  of  narratives 
and  addresses  and  letters.     Why  is  it  then,  that  instead  of 


STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  253 

one  simple  proclamation  from  the  Majesty  on  high,  we  have 
sixty  or  seventy  different  books,  introducing  us  to  the  public 
history  of  twenty  nations,  and  to  minute  incidents  in  the 
biographies  of  a  thousand  men?  _One  reason  doubtless  is, 
that  we  may  be  excited  by  the  incident  and  story  ;  that 
religion  and  impiety  may  be  respectively  presented  to  us  in 
living  and  acting  reality  ;  and  that  the  principles  of  God's 
government,  and  of  his  dealing  with  men,  may  come  to  us 
m  all  the  vividness  of  actual  fact.  If,  then,  we  neglect  to 
understand  this  history  as  history,  and  to  enter  into  all  the 
incidents  which  are  detailed,  we  lose  the  very  benefit  winch 
the  Spirit  had  in  view  in  making  the  Bible  such  a  volume 
as  it  is.  Without  such  an  occasional  effort  to  make  the 
Scriptures  a  study,  examining  them  intellectually,  compar- 
ing one  part  with  another,  and  endeavoring  to  bring  vividly 
to  view  the  scenes  which  they  present  to  our  minds,  it  may 
safely  be  said  that  no  one  can  truly  understand  the  Bible, 
or  enter  into  the  spirit  of  its  descriptions,  its  warnings,  and 
its  appeals. 

But  after  all,  the  great  object  in  studying  the  Bible  is 
not  merely  to  understand  it.  The  revelation  which  God 
has  made  is  addressed,  not  so  much  to  the  intellect  as  to 
the  consciences  and  hearts  of  men ;  and  unless  it  reaches 
the  conscience  and  the  heart,  it  entirely  fails  of  accomplish- 
ing its  object.  We  ought  indeed  to  gain  an  intellectual 
knowledge  of  it,  but  that  is  only  to  be  considered  as  a  means 
to  enable  us  the  more  fully  to  apply  to  our  own  characters 
and  conduct  the  practical  lessons  which  it  teaches. 

All  persons,  therefore,  even  if  unable  to  secure  time 
daily  for  a  systematic  study  of  the  Bible,  should  read  a  por- 
tion of  it  practically  every  day.  This  part  of  my  subject 
does  not  need  so  full  an  illustration  as  the  other,  for  the 
great  difficulty  in  regard  to  reading  the  Scriptures  practi- 
cally, is  a  want  of  disposition  to  do  it.  They  who  really 
wish  to  learn  their  duty  and  overcome  their  temptations, 


254  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

who  desire  that  the  sins  of  their  hearts  and  lives  should  be 
brought  to  their  view  by  the  word  of  God,  will  be  enabled 
to  make  for  themselves  an  application  of  the  truths  which 
the  Bible  contains. 

Will  not  all  my  readers  do  this,  faithfully  and  persever- 
ingly  ?  Resolve  to  bring  a  short  portion  of  the  preceptive 
or  devotional  parts  of  the  Scriptures  home  to  your  heart 
every  day  ;  and  let  your  object  be,  not  so  much  to  extend 
your  intellectual  view  of  the  field  opened  to  you  in  its  pages, 
as  to  increase  its  moral  and  spiritual  influence  upon  your 
heart  and  conduct.  Be  not  so  careful,  then,  to  read  this 
exact  quantity,  or  that ;  but  to  bring  home  some  portion 
really  and  fully  to  the  heart  and  to  the  conscience — to  do 
it  so  forcibly,  that  the  influence  of  those  few  verses  read 
and  pondered  in  the  morning,  will  go  with  you  through  the 
day. 

Reading  the  Bible  is,  however,  sometimes  practised  with 
a  very  different  spirit  from  this.  A  boy,  for  example,  whose 
parent  or  whose  Sabbath-school  teacher  has  convinced  him 
that  he  ought  to  read  the  Bible  daily,  takes  his  book  and 
sits  down  by  the  fire,  and  reads  away,  rapidly  and  thought- 
lessly, the  portion  which  comes  in  course.  He  looks  up 
occasionally,  to  observe -the  sports  of  his  brothers  and  sis- 
ters, or  to  join  in  their  conversation,  and  then  returns  again 
to  the  verse  he  left.  In  fifteen  minutes  he  rises  from  his 
seat,  shuts  his  book,  and  pushes  it  into  its  place  upon  the 
shelf,  saying,  "  There,  I  have  read  my  chapter ;"  and  this 
is  the  last  he  knows  or  thinks  of  the  Bible  during  the  day. 

Consider  now  another  case.  In  an  unfurnished  and 
almost  an  unfinished  little  room  in  some  crowded  alley  of 
a  populous  city,  you  may  see  a  lad  who  has  just  arisen  from 
his  humble  bed,  and  is  ready  to  go  forth  to  his  daily  duties. 
He  is  a  young  apprentice — and  must  almost  immediately  go 
forth  to  kindle  his  morning  fire,  and  to  prepare  his  place  of 
business  for  the  labors  of  the  day.     He  first,  however,  takes 


STUDY  OF  THE  BIBLE.  255 

his  little  Testament  from  his  chest — and  breathes,  while 
he  opens  it,  a  silent  prayer  that  God  will  fix  the  lesson 
that  he  is  about  to  read,  upon  his  conscience  and  his  heart. 
"Holy  Spirit,"  whispers  he,  "graciously  apply  the  instruc- 
tions of  this  book  to  my  heart,  and  let  me  be  governed  by 
it  to-day ;  so  that  I  may  perform  faithfully  all  my  duties  to 
myself,  to  my  companions,  to  my  master,  and  to  thee."  He 
opens  the  book,  and  reads  perhaps  as  follows  :  "  Be  kindly 
affectioned  one  to  another  with  brotherly  love ;  in  honor 
preferring  one  another."  He  pauses — his  faithful  self- apply- 
ing thoughts  run  over  the  scenes  through  which  he  is  that 
day  to  pass,  and  he  considers  in  what  cases  this  verse  ought 
to  influence  him.  "  '  Be  kindly  affectioned.'  I  must  treat 
my  brothers  and  sisters,  and  all  my  companions,  kindly  to- 
day. I  must  try  to  save  them  trouble,  and  to  promote  their 
happiness.  '  In  honor  preferring  one  another.'  "  As  he  sees 
these  words,  he  sighs  to  reflect  how  many  times  he  has 
been  jealous  of  his  fellow-apprentices  on  account  of  marks 
of  trust  and  favor  shown  to  them,  or  envious  of  the  some- 
what superior  privileges  enjoyed  by  those  older  than  him- 
self, and  he  prays  that  God  will  forgive  him,  and  make  him 
humble  and  kind-hearted  hi  future,  to  all  around  him. 

"  Not  slothful  in  busmess ;  fervent  in  spirit ;  serving 
the  Lord."  He  stops  to  consider  whether  he  is  habitually 
industrious,  improving  all  his  time  in  such  a  manner  as  to 
be  of  the  greatest  advantage  to  his  master ;  whether  he  is 
fervent  in  spirit,  that  is,  cordially  devoted  to  God's  service, 
and  full  of  benevolent  desires  for  the  happiness  of  all ; 
whether  he  serves  the  Lord  in  what  he  does,  that  is, 
whether  all  his  duties  are  discharged  from  motives  of  love 
to  his  Maker  and  Preserver.  While  he  thus  muses,  the  fire 
burns.  He  shuts  his  book,  and  asks  God  to  protect  him,  as 
he  now  must  go  out  into  the  labors  and  temptations  of  the 
day.  God  does  bless  and  protect  him.  He  has  read,  indeed, 
but  two  verses ;  but  these  verses  he  carries  in  his  heart, 


256  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

and  they  serve  as  a  memorial  of  kindness  and  love  to  man, 
and  fidelity  towards  God,  which  accompanies  him  wherever 
he  goes,  and  keeps  him  safe  and  happy.  The  Bible  is  thus 
a  light  to  his  feet  and  a  lamp  to  his  paths.  Which  now 
of  these,  do  you  think,  reads  the  Bible  aright  ? 

Let  no  child  who  reads  this  understand  me  to  say  that 
I  consider  two  verses  enough  of  the  Bible  to  read  each  day. 
"What  I  mean  by  this  case  is,  that  so  much  more  depends 
upon  the  sjririt  and  manner  with  which  the  Bible  is  read, 
than  the  quantity,  that  a  very  small  portion,  properly 
read,  may  be  far  more  useful  than  a  much  larger  quantity 
hurried  over  in  a  careless  and  thoughtless  manner.  No 
precise  rules  can  be  given  in  regard  to  quantity  ;  it  must 
vary  with  circumstances,  and  of  these  the  individual  must, 
in  most  cases,  be  the  judge. 


THE   SABBATH.  257 


CHAPTER   IX. 

THE    SABBATH. 

'  Remember  the  Sabbath-day  to  keep  it  holy." 

My  readers  are  undoubtedly  generally  aware,  that  the 
present  obligation  to  keep  the  Sabbath  has  been,  by  some 
persons,  denied,  on  the  ground  that  keeping  one  day  in  seven 
holy  is  a  sort  of  ceremony,  and  that  it  was  only  intended  to 
be  required  of  the  Jewish  nation.  I  do  not  intend,  in  this 
chapter,  to  enter  at  all  into  a  discussion  of  that  subject. 
Most,  if  not  all  of  those  who  will  read  this  book,  are  undoubt- 
edly satisfied  hi  regard  to  it.  I  will,  however,  simply  state 
the  facts,  on  the  ground  of  which  the  present  binding  author- 
ity of  the  Lord's  day  is  generally  admitted  by  Christians. 

As  soon  as  God  had  finished  the  creation,  it  is  stated 
that  he  rested  on  the  seventh  day,  and  sanctified  it ;  that  is, 
he  set  it  apart  for  a  sacred  use.  The  time  and  the  circum- 
stances under  which  this  was  done,  sufficiently  indicate  that 
it  was  intended  to  apply  to  the  whole  race,  and  to  extend 
through  all  tune.  A  ceremony  solemnly  established  at  the 
foundation  of  an  empire  would  be  universally  considered  as 
designed  to  extend  as  far  and  continue  as  long  as  the  empire 
itself  should  extend  and  continue,  unless  it  should  be  dis- 
tinctly repealed.  And  so  with  a  duty  established  at  the 
foundation  of  a  world. 

Many  years  afterwards  the  Creator  gave  a  very  distinct 
code  of  laws  to  his  people,  the  Jews.  These  laws  were  of 
two  kinds,  ceremonial  and  moral.  It  was  the  design  of  the 
former  to  be  binding  only  upon  the  Jewish  nation ;  the  latter 
are  of  permanent  and  universal  authority. 

The  ceremonial  laws  were  merely  repeated  to  Moses, 


2oS  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

and  he  made  a  record  of  them  ;  you  will  find  them  in  nearly 
all  the  chapters  of  Leviticus  and  Deuteronomy.  All  the 
regulations  relating  to  sacrifices  are  of  this  character.  The 
moral  laws  were,  however,  given  in  the  most  solemn  man- 
ner from  mount  Sinai.  They  are  the  ten  commandments, 
and  they  were  written,  by  the  direct  power  of  God  himself, 
upon  tablets  of  stone,  which  were  carefully  preserved. 

Now,  as  if  to  remove  all  possible  ground  of  doubt  in 
regard  to  his  design,  the  observance  of  the  Sabbath  was  made 
the  subject  of  one  of  these  ten  commandments ;  and  it  has 
been  observed  from  that  day  to  this,  by  a  vast  majority  of  all 
those  who  have  wished  to  obey  their  Maker's  commands. 

These  facts  are  abundantly  sufficient  to  convince  those 
who  are  ivilling  to  keep  the  Sabbath,  that  .God  intended 
that  all  men  should  keep  it.  They  who  are  not  convinced, 
reveal  by  their  doubts  their  unwillingness  to  obey.  I  would 
advise,  therefore,  any  one  who  has  doubts  about  the  divine 
authority  of  the  Sabbath,  not  to  spend  Ins  time  in  looking  for 
the  arguments  for  and  against  in  this  controversy,  but  to 
come  at  once  to  his  heart.  Ask  yourself  this  question  :  <;Do 
I  fully  understand  what  it  is  to  remember  the  Sabbath-day 
and  keep  it  holy,  and  am  I  cordially  and  sincerely  willing  to 
do  it  ?"  In  the  affirmative  answer  to  this  question  you  will 
find  the  solution  to  all  your  doubts. 

The  Sabbath  was  observed,  from  its  establishment  down 
to  the  coming  of  Christ,  on  the  seventh  day  of  the  week, 
that  is,  our  Saturday.  Our  Saviour  rose  from  the  dead  on 
the  day  after  the  Sabbath,  and  we  find,  soon  after  his  resur- 
rection, that  Christians  observed  that  day  instead  of  the 
former  one,  as  sacred  time.  There  is  no  direct  command  to 
do  this  on  record,  and  no  indication  that  there  was  any  con- 
troversy about  it  at  the  time.  They  all  at  once  simultane- 
ously change.  They  keep  one  day  in  seven  as  before,  but  it 
is  a  different  day.  We  infer  that  they  had  some  authority 
for  so  doing,  though  it  is  not  at  all  necessary  that  that  au- 


THE   SABBATH.  259 

thority  should  be  specified.  It  is  the  custom  in  most  of  the 
schools  in  Xew  England  to  consider  the  afternoon  of  Satur- 
day a  half-holiday.  Now,  suppose  a  boy  should  leave  this 
country  to  go  on  a  foreign  voyage,  and  after  being  absent 
many  months,  should  return,  and  find,  when  Saturday  after- 
noon comes,  that  all  the  boys  in  Ins  native  town  go  to  school 
as  usual,  but  that  on  Monday  afternoon  the  schools  are  all 
suspended.  He  sees  that  this  is  the  universal  custom,  and 
it  continues  so  permanently.  Now  it  is  not,  under  these 
circumstances,  at  all  necessary  that  the  original  vote  of  the 
school  committee  by  which  the  change  was  made  should 
come  before  him.  The  universality  of  the  practice  is  the 
best  of  evidence  in  such  a  case.  iSTo  boy  would  wish  for 
more.  It  is  just  so  with  the  evidence  we  have  that  the 
Sabbath  was  changed.  Suddenly  all  Christians  changed 
their  practice  ;  they  changed  together,  and  without  any  evi- 
dence of  a  controversy,  and  the  new  arrangement  has  been 
adopted  from  that  day  to  this. 

But  yet  all  persons  are  not  quite  satisfied  about  it,  and 
there  are  various  other  questions  connected  with  the  time  of 
the  Sabbath,  which  have  occasioned  in  the  minds  of  many 
Christians  serious  doubt  and  perplexities.  Some  imagine 
that  they  ought  to  have  more  evidence  of  the  change  from 
the  seventh  to  the  first  day  of  the  week;  they  think  too, 
that  the  Sabbath  is  intended  to  be  commemorative  of  God's 
rest  after  finishing  the  creation,  and  that  this  object  is  lost 
by  altering  the  day ;  and  some  lose  themselves  in  endless 
arguments  on  the  question  whether  sunset,  midnight,  or 
morning  marks  the  beginning  of  the  sacred  day.  The  dif- 
ference of  views  on  this  subject  produces  some  difference  of 
practice.  There  are  some  Christians  who  prefer  to  keep 
Saturday  as  holy  time,  and  not  Sunday,  regarding  the  former 
as  the  seventh  day  meant  by  the  commandment.  There  is 
a  difference  of  practice,  too,  in  regard  to  the  time  of  com- 
mencing the  holy  day.     In  some  places  the  Sabbath  is  under- 


260  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

V 

stood  to  begin  on  the  evening  of  Saturday,  so  that  when  the 

sun  goes  down  on  Sunday  evening,  they  return  to  their  usual 

duties  and  cares.     In  other  places,  midnight  is  considered  as 

the  limit  which  marks  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  sacred 

time. 

The  actual  inconvenience  arising  from  this  diversity  is 
comparatively  slight.  The  great  evil  which  these  differences 
of  opinion  produce,  is  the  interminable  disputes  which  arise 
from  them.  Perhaps  some  of  my  readers,  when  they  saw 
the  subject  of  the  Sabbath  announced,  may  have  been  curi- 
ous to  knoAv  winch  side  I  was  going  to  take  in  regard  to 
some  of  these  points  ;  for  example,  on  the  question  whether 
it  is  proper  to  commence  holy  time  on  Saturday  evening,  or 
on  Sabbath  morning.  Now,  in  fact,  I  am  going  to  take  both 
sides.  I  am  going  to  try  to  convince  you  that  it  is  entirely 
immaterial  winch  is  adopted,  and  that  the  whole  subject  is 
completely  unworthy  of  being  made  a  matter  of  controversy 
among  Christian  brethren. 

"When  God  gives  us  a  command,  I  am  aware  that  we 
must  obey  it  exactly.  But  a  command  is  obeyed  exactly,  if 
it  is  obeyed  in  all  the  particulars  expressed  in  the  words  of 
it.  I  think  the  following  principle  may  be  laid  down  as 
fundamental  in  regard  to  all  laws  partaking  of  a  ceremonial 
character,  human  and  divine.  So  far  as  the  ceremonial 
part  is  essential,  it  ivill  be  distinctly  described  in  the  com- 
mand. The  fourth  command  partakes  of  the  ceremonial 
character.  It  is  for  the  observance  of  a  particular  day.  It 
specifies  what  day,  but  it  does  not  specify  at  what  hour  it  is 
to  begin,  and  therefore  we  are  left  at  liberty  to  begin  it  *o  as 
to  correspond  with  any  establislied  and  common  mode  of 
computing  time. 

But  to  illustrate  the  above-mentioned  principle — for  it 
seems  to  me  that  if  it  were  cordially  and  fully  admitted,  it 
would  save  a  vast  number  of  disputes  on  many  other  sub- 
jects— let  us  suppose  that  a  father,  about  to  be  absent  from 


THE  SABBATH.  261 

his  home,  leaves  his  two  hoys  with  the  command  that  they 
shall  work,  every  day,  a  little  while  in  the  garden.  Now, 
in  such  a  case  as  this,  the  boys  ought  not  to  consider  them- 
selves as  limited  to  any  particular  time  for  doing  it.  They 
must  consider  their  father's  design  in  the  command,  and  act 
in  such  a  manner  as  to  comply  with  the  spirit  of  it ;  but 
they  may  do  as  they  please  about  the  time  of  beginning. 
They  may  work  in  the  morning,  or  in  the  evening,  or  at 
midnight,  according  to  their  own  convenience. 

Suppose,  however,  he  had  been  a  little  more  definite,  and 
had  said,  "I  wish  you,  my  boys,  while  I  am  absent,  to  work 
a  few  hours  every  forenoon  in  the  garden."  This  would 
have  been  a  little  more  definite.  And  just  so  far  as  it  is 
definite  in  regard  to  the  time,  just  so  far  it  would  be  binding 
in  that  respect.  They  would  not  now  be  at  liberty  to  choose 
whether  they  would  work  forenoon  or  afternoon,  but  still  they 
would  be  at  liberty  in  regard  to  the  precise  time  of  begin- 
ning. If  one  of  the  boys  should  attempt  to  prove  that  they 
ought  to  begin  exactly  at  half-past  eight,  because  the  father 
had  usually  begun  at  that  hour,  or  because  the  neighbors 
did,  the  other  might  reply,  that  the  time  of  beginning  was 
not  specified  in  the  command,  and  they  might,  if  they  chose, 
begin  at  an  earlier  or  later  hour,  if  they  only  honestly  ful- 
filled the  command  by  working  faithfully  as  much  as  they 
supposed  their  father  meant  by  the  expression,  "  a  few 
hours." 

Let  us,  however,  make  the  command  more  definite  still. 
Imagine  the  father  to  have  said,  "  I  wish  you,  my  sons,  to 
spend  from  nine  to  tivelve  o'clock  every  day,  in  the  gar- 
den, working  for  me."  This  leaves  them  much  less  discre- 
tionary power.  The  time  for  beginning  and  ending  is  dis- 
tinctly specified,  and  the  command  is  binding,  in  regard  to 
these  points  of  form  and  manner,  just  so  far  as  they  are  dis- 
tinctly specified.  Still,  there  is  room  for  a  dispute.  The 
spirit  which  makes  so  much  of  a  controversy  on  the  ques- 


262  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

tion  "whether  holy  time  begins  at  sundown  or  at  midnight, 
would  have  easily  made  a  controversy  here.  For  we  will 
suppose  that  there  was  a  clock  in  the  hall  of  the  house, 
and  a  dial  in  the  garden.  All  my  readers  are  aware,  I  pre- 
sume, that  a  clock,  if  it  is  a  good  one,  keeps  regular,  equal 
time  ;  hut  that  there  is  some  irregularity  in  the  motions  of 
the  heavenly  bodies,  which  prevents  the  dial  from  always 
corresponding  with  it  exactly.  Sometimes  the  dial,  which 
marks  apparent  time,  that  is,  what  appears  to  be  the  time 
by  the  sun,  is  before,  and  sometimes  behind  the  clocks ;  for 
they  mark  the  real,  or  true  time,  as  it  is  called.  Now,  how 
easily  might  these  boys  get  into  a  dispute  on  the  question 
whether  their  father  meant  them  to  keep  true  or  apparent 
time,  that  is,  whether  he  meant  them  to  begin  by  the  clock 
or  by  the  dial :  sometimes  the  difference  is  fifteen  minutes. 
They  might  say,  that  they  must  obey  their  father's  command 
exactly,  and  each  might  undertake  to  show,  from  arguments 
drawn  from  the  nature  of  time,  which  perhaps  neither  of 
them  understood,  or  from  the  father's  practice,  or  the  prac- 
tice of  other  workmen  in  the  vicinity,  that  one  method  of 
computation  or  the  other  was  the  proper  one.  How  unwise 
would  this  be.  The  proper  ground  unquestionably  for  boys 
in  such  a  case  to  take  would  be,  "It  is  no  matter  which 
mode  of  reckoning  Ave  adopt ;  it  was  not  father's  object  to 
have  us  begin  at  any  precise  moment."  "  If  you  prefer  the 
clock,"  one  might  say,  "  I  have  no  objection  to  it.  I  think 
we  have  a  right  to  take  which  we  please,  for  father  did  not 
specify  any  thing  in  regard  to  it ;  and  if  he  had  had  any 
preference,  he  would  have  stated  it." 

Just  so  in  regard  to  the  Sabbath.  God  says  in  substance, 
"  Keep  holy  one  day  in  seven."  There  is  no  minute  specifi- 
cation in  regard  to  the  moment  of  commencing ;  we  are  at 
liberty,  therefore,  to  commence  according  to  any  established 
and  common  method  of  computing  time. 

May  not,  then,  the  principle  stated  above  be  considered  as 


THE   SABBATH..  263 

"universal,  in  regard  to  obedience  to  all  laws  of  a  ceremonial 
nature  ?  So  far  as  the  form  and  manner  are  deemed  essen- 
tial, they  are  ahuays  distinctly  expressed  in  the  laiv.  Look 
at  the  laws  in  these  States  for  the  solemnization  of  mar- 
riages :  all  that  is  essential  is  distinctly  expressed.  So  with 
the  laws  in  regard  to  the  transfer  of  property :  every  form 
that  is  intended  to  be  required  is  detailed  in  the  statute.  So 
with  the  purely  ceremonial  laws  of  the  Jews.  If  a  comma  nd 
required  the  sacrifice  of  two  doves,  the  Jew  would  plainly 
not  feel  at  liberty  to  bring  one  or  three,  nor  to  offer,  instead 
of  the  bird  prescribed,  vultures  or  sparrows.  But  he  just  as 
plainly  would  be  at  liberty  to  offer  doves  of  any  color  ;  he 
might  choose  blue  or  white,  or  any  other  hue :  and  if  his 
neighbor  should  say  to  him,  "Your  doves  are  not  of  the 
right  kind  ;  nobody  offers  such  doves  as  those  ;"  his  proper 
reply  would  be,  "  I  obey  the  command.  The  color  is  not 
specified."  So  with  Christians  in  keeping  the  Sabbath.  It 
is  not  essential  whether  you  begin  at  sundown  or  at  mid- 
night ;  if  you  keep  the  Sabbath  faithfully  and  regularly 
according  to  one  method  or  the  other,  you  obey  the  com- 
mand ;  the  moment  for  beginning  is  not  specified. 

It  seems  to  me  that  any  person  who  endeavors  to  obtain 
a  philosophical  idea  of  the  nature  of  our  mode  of  computing 
time  by  days,  must  see  the  impossibility  of  marking  any 
precise  limit  for  the  commencement  and  close  of  sacred  time. 
Astronomers  commence  a  day  at  twelve  o'clock  at  noon. 
Some  nations  begin  it  at  midnight.  On  shore  it  is  reckoned 
as  commencing  at  one  hour,  and  at  sea,  as  at  another.  The 
day,  too,  begins  at  a  different  time  in  every  different  place ; 
so  that  a  ship  at  sea,  beginning  a  day  hi  one  place  and  end- 
ing it  in  another,  sometimes  will  have  twenty-three  and  a 
half  and  sometimes  twenty-four  and  a  half  hours  in  her  day, 
and  no  clock  or  timepiece  whatever  can  keep  her  time.  An 
officer  of  the  ship  is  obliged  to  determine  the  beginning  of 
their  day  every  noon  by  astronomical  observation.     A  sea- 


26-1  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

captain  can  often  make  a  difference  of  an  hour  in  the  length 
of  his  day,  by  the  direction  hi  which  he  steers  his  ship  ;  be- 
cause a  day  begins  and  ends  in  no  two  places,  east  and  west 
of  each  other,  at  the  same  time.  At  Jerusalem  they  are 
six  hours  in  advance  of  us  in  their  time,  and  at  the  Sand- 
wich Islands  six  hours  behind.  In  consequence  of  this,  it 
is  evident  that  the  ship,  changing  her  longitude,  must  every 
day  change  her  reckoning.  These  sources  of  difficulty  in 
marking  out  the  limits  of  a  day,  increase  as  we  go  towards 
the  pole.  A  ship  within  fifty  miles  of  it,  might  sail  round 
on  a  parallel  of  latitude,  and  keep  it  one  continual  noon  or 
midnight  to  her  all  the  year ;  only  noon  and  midnight  would 
be  there  almost  the  same.  At  the  pole  itself  all  distinction 
between  day  and  night  entirely  ceases  ;  summer  and  whiter 
are  the  only  change.  Habitable  regions  do  not  indeed  extend 
to  the  pole,  but  they  extend  far  beyond  any  practical  distinc- 
tion between  noon  and  midnight,  or  evening  and  mornino*. 

The  difference  between  the  times  of  commencing  days 
in  different  parts  of  the  earth  is  so  great,  that  a  ship  sailing 
round  the  globe  loses  a  whole  day  in  her  reckoning,  or  gains 
a  whole  day,  according  to  the  direction  in  which  she  sails. 
If  she  sets  out  from  Boston,  and  passes  round  Cape  Horn,  and 
across  the  Pacific  ocean,- to  China,  thence  through  the  Indian 
and  Atlantic  oceans  home,  she  will  find,  on  her  arrival,  that 
it  is  Tuesday  with  her  crew  when  it  is  Wednesday  on  shore. 
Each  of  her  days  will  have  been  a  little  longer  than  a  day 
is  in  any  fixed  place,  and  of  course  she  will  have  had  fewer 
of  them.  So  that  if  the  passengers  were  Christians,  and 
have  endeavored  to  keep  the  Sabbath,  they  will  not  and  can- 
not have  corresponded  with  any  one  nation  whatever  in  the 
times  of  their  observance  of  it.  I  suppose  my  readers  will 
believe  these  facts  on  my  testimony  ;  but  they  will  have  a 
far  more  vivid  idea  of  the  truth  in  this  case,  if  they  will  ask 
some  sea-captain  who  has  sailed  round  or  half  round  the 
globe,  if  it  is  not  so,  and  converse  with  him  on  some  of  the 


THE   SABBATH.  265 

interesting  questions  and  difficulties  which  arise  from  this 
peculiarity  in  the  nature  of  the  computation  of  time. 

But  besides  tins  difficulty  arising  from  the  variation  in 
the  time  at  different  longitudes,  there  are  also  other  causes 
which  will  produce  greater  difficulty  still  in  the  way  of 
marking  out  a  precise  moment  at  which  the  boundary  be- 
tween sacred  and  common  time  is  to  be  marked.  As  we  go 
north  or  south  from  the  equator,  the  lengths  of  the  days  in  • 
crease  in  the  summer  season,  until  at  last,  as  I  have  already 
intimated,  in  a  certain  latitude  the  sun  ceases  altogether  to 
set  for  a  period  equal  to  many  weeks  of  our  reckoning. 
Now,  what  will  a  man  who  supposes  that  our  Maker  meant 
to  command  all  mankind  to  keep  the  Sabbath  exactly  from 
sunset  to  sunset  or  from  midnight  to  midnight — what  will 
such  a  man  say  to  a  Christian  in  Greenland,  where  the  sun 
does  not  set  for  months  together  ? 

Is  the  moral  law  limited  to  latitude  in  its  application,  or 
did  the  great  Framer  of  it  not  know,  or  did  he  forget  that 
the  motions  of  the  sun  which  he  himself  ordained,  would 
give  to  some  of  the  people  to  whom  the  command  was  ad- 
dressed, no  sunset  or  midnight  for  months  at  a  time  ?  No  ; 
it  is  absurd  to  press  a  written  command  to  any  greater  strict- 
ness, in  regard  to  the  form  and  manner  of  its  observance, 
than  the  letter  expresses.  God  says  to  us  simply,  "  Keep 
holy  one  day  in  seven."  We  may  reckon  that  day  in  any  of 
the  prevailing  methods  of  computing  time.  If  it  was  cus- 
tomary in  old  times  to  reckon  the  day  from  sunset  to  sunset, 
the  servants  of  God  would  probably  reckon  their  Sabbaths 
bo  too.  If  it  is  customary  now  to  reckon  from  midnight  to 
midnight,  we  may  reckon  our  Sabbath  so.  "We  must  keep 
the  command  in  its  spirit,  but  we  need  not  press  the  form 
any  farther  than  the  letter  of  the  command  itself  presses  it. 

The  same  principles  apply  to  the  change  from  the  seventh 
day  to  the  first.  That  is  not  an  alteration  of  the  command, 
but  only  of  practice  under  the  command,  in  a  point  which 

Y.  Christian.  22 


266  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

the  letter  of  the  law  does  not  fix.  Christians  labor  six  days 
and  rest  the  seventh  notv.  By  our  artificial  nomenclature 
\ve  call  it  the  first ;  but  that  does  not  alter  the  real  nature 
of  the  command,  which  is  simply,  that  after  every  six  days 
of  labor  there  shall  be  regularly  one  of  rest.  This  require- 
ment has  never  been  changed  or  touched ;  it  stands  among 
the  ten  commands,  unaltered  and  unalterable,  like  all  the 
rest.  The  practice,  in  a  point  not  fixed  by  the  phraseology 
of  the  command,  is  indeed  altered ;  but  that  no  more  affects 
obedience  to  the  law  than  a  change  from  parchment  to  paper, 
in  the  drawing  up  of  a  legal  instrument,  would  violate  a 
law  which  did  not  prescribe  the  material.  Who  would 
think  of  saying  in  such  a  case,  "  The  law  has  been  altered ; 
when  the  statute  was  enacted,  the  universal  practice  was 
to  write  upon  parchment,  and  now  men  universally  use 
paper ;  we  can  find  no  authority  for  the  change,  and  conse- 
quently the  law  is  broken  ?"  The  law  would  not  be  broken 
unless  it  unequivocally  mentioned  parchment  in  contradis- 
tinction from  all  other  materials.  The  day  then  in  present 
use  is  to  be  continued  as  the  holy  time  until  it  is  changed  by 
proper  authority,  and  the  change  made  known  in  a  proper 
manner.  But  that  authority  and  that  manner  need  not  be 
by  any  means  so  formal  as  was  the  original  command,  be- 
cause it  does  not  alter  that  command  at  all ;  it  only  alters 
practice  arising  under  the  command,  and  that  in  a  point 
which  the  law  itself  does  not  specify. 

Seme  one  may  perhaps,  however,  say  that  the  Sabbath 
was  in  commemoration  of  the  rest  of  Jehovah  after  the  cre- 
ation, and  that  this  object  is  lost  by  the  change.  But  if  the 
precise  time  of  God's  resting  is  to  be  reckoned,  it  is  to  be 
reckoned  according  to  the  culmination  of  the  sun  at  Eden, 
and  the  day  there  is  many  hours  in  advance  of  us  here ;  so 
that  strict,  precise  accuracy,  in  regard  to  hours  and  minutes, 
is,  in  every  view  of  the  case,  entirely  out  of  the  question  ; 
and  the  fact  that  the  command  does  not  attempt  to  secure 


THE  SABBATH.  267 

it,  gives  evidence  that  it  was  intended  for  general  circulation 
among  mankind.  To  a  person  standing  still  in  one  place, 
and  looking  no  farther  than  to  his  own  limited  horizon,  the 
word  clay  seems  definite  enough ;  but  when  a  voice  from 
mount  Sinai  speaks  to  the  whole  world,  commanding  all 
men,  at  sea  and  on  land,«  in  Arctic  regions  and  under  an 
equinoctial  sun,  under  every  meridian  and  at  every  parallel, 
to  remember  one  day  in  seven  and  keep  it  holy,  there  must 
be  great  diversity  in  the  form  and  moment  of  obedience. 
We  cannot,  looking  over  the  whole  field,  find  a  precise  and 
universal  limit.  The  command,  if  we  consider  it  as  address- 
ed to  the  ivorld,  is  entirely  indefinite  in  regard  to  the  precise 
period  of  the  commencement  and  close  of  sacred  time ;  but 
the  great  principle  of  it  is  clear  :  Keep  one  day  in  seven, 
according  to  some  common  mode  of  computation,  holy  to 
the  Lord. 

I  should  not  have  spent  so  much  time  in  endeavoring  to 
prove  that  minute  accuracy  in  regard  to  the  form  and  man- 
ner of  obeying  this  command  are  unattainable,  were  it  not 
that  this  discussion  involves  a  principle  which  applies  to 
man}'  other  cases  ;  so  that  if  you  are  induced  to  see  its  rea- 
sonableness and  to  admit  its  force  in  this  case,  you  will  be 
saved  a  great  deal  of  useless  perplexity  about  the  minutiae  of 
forms  in  a  great  many  other  cases.  Remember  then  this 
principle,  that  commands  are  to  be  obeyed  in  their  spirit, 
except  where  the  precise  form  is  a  matter  of  positive  and 
distinct  specification. 

I  have  one  or  two  practical  remarks  to  make  in  reference 
to  this  part  of  my  subject. 

1 .  In  respect  to  those  points  of  duty  on  which  the  Scrip- 
tures give  no  direct  instructions,  you  will  do  well  to  conform 
to  the  customs  of  Christians  around  you.  If  you  live  in  a 
community  where  the  Sabbath  is  generally  commenced  on 
Saturday  evening,  begin  yours  at  that  time ;  conform  not 


268  THE   YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

only  in  this,  but  in  all  other  unimportant  points  ;  kneel,  or 
stand,  or  sit  at  prayers,  as  other  people  do  around  you.  I 
have  known  persons  so  controlled  by  the  determination  to 
have  their  own  way  in  little  things,  and  to  consider  all  other 
ways  wrong,  that  they  could  not  sit  at  table  while  a  bless- 
ing was  asked,  as  is  the  common  custom  in  many  places, 
without  being  very  much  shocked  at  the  imaginary  irrever- 
ence. Some  men  will  be  pained  if  a  minister  says  ive  in  the 
pulpit,  and  others  will  quarrel  with  him  if  he  says  I ;  and  a 
grave  discussion  is  sometimes  carried  on,  on  such  points  as 
these,  in  religious  journals.  One  Christian  cannot  endure  a 
written  prayer  ;  another  cannot  bear  an  extempore  one.  A 
is  troubled  if  there  is  an  organ  in  the  church,  and  B  thinks 
that  music  at  church  is  nothing  without  one.  C  will  almost 
leave  the  meeting-house  if  he  should  see  the  minister  come 
in  wearing  a  silk  gown  ;  and  D  would  be  equally  shocked  at 
seeing  him  without  one.  Now,  all  this  is  wrong.  These 
points  are  not  determined  by  any  express  command  in  the 
Bible,  and  consequently  they  are  left  to  the  varying  taste 
and  convenience  of  mankind.  Every  person  may  perhaps 
have  a  slight  preference,  but  this  preference  he  ought  at  all 
times  to  be  willing  to  give  up,  in  consideration  of  the  wishes 
and  feeling  of  his  Christian  brother.  He  who  intends  to  do 
good  in  this  world,  must  go  about  among  mankind  with  a 
spirit  which  will  lead  him  to  conform,  easily  and  pleasantly, 
to  the  customs  of  men,  except  in  those  cases  where  the  letter 
or  the  spirit  of  the  Bible  forbids. 

2.  This  discussion  reminds  me  of  one  great  and  striking 
characteristic  of  many,  if  not  all,  of  God's  commands.  They 
are  peculiarl '//  liable  to  evasion.  This  is  one  of  their  excel- 
lences, as  a  part  of  a  system  of  moral  discipline.  The  object 
of  human  laws  is  to  prevent  injury  from  crime — not  to  im- 
prove and  perfect  the  character.  The  object  of  divine  laws 
is  to  discipline  moral  beings,  to  train  them  up  to  moral 
strength,  and  make  them  sincere  and  faithful  servants  ol 


THE   SABBATH.  269 

their  Master  in  heaven.  This  gives  rise  to  a  great  difference 
in  the  form  of  the  commands  themselves.  How  much  pains 
do  men  take,  when  making  laws,  to  cut  off  every  possible 
chance  of  escape^by  specifying  with  minute  accuracy  all  the 
details  of  transgression.  Hence  the  enactments  of  men  are 
very  voluminous.  The  laws  of  a  state  on  the  subject  of 
theft  will  fill  a  volume ;  but  God  disposes  of  the  whole  sub- 
ject in  four  words,  "  Thou  shalt  not  steal."  The  human 
lawgiver  studies  to  cut  off,  by  the  fulness  and  legal  accuracy 
of  Ins  language,  every  opportunity  for  quibbling  or  evasion  ; 
but  if  any  man  wishes  to  escape  from  the  laws  of  God  by 
quibbling  and  evasion,  he  may — the  door  is  wide  open  :  and 
this  is  what  gives  the  law  of  God  its  admirable  adaptedness 
to  be  the  means  of  moral  discipline  to  the  human  soul. 

The  reason  why  it  produces  this  effect  is  this  :  The  more 
strict  and  minute  are  the  details  of  a  command,  the  less  room 
is  there  for  the  exercise  of  fidelity  and  voluntary  obedience. 
God  might,  in  regard  to  the  Sabbath  for  example,  have  been 
so  precise  and  specific  in  his  command,  that  the  whole  world 
might  know  exactly  the  moment  when  sacred  time  is  to 
begin,  and  exactly  the  manner  in  which  its  hours  are  to  be 
spent ;  nay,  more,  he  might  have  so  interrupted  the  course  of 
nature,  that  all  the  business  of  life  must  have  ceased,  and 
men  have  been  compelled  to  rest  on  the  Sabbath.  But  this 
would  have  been  no  moral  trial ;  it  would  have  afforded  no 
moral  discipline.  God  does  not  accordingly  adopt  such  a 
course.  He  expresses  his  command  in  general  and  simple 
language.  They  who  wish  to  obey,  can  easily  ascertain 
what  they  ought  to  do ;  and  they  who  do  not,  will  easily 
find  excuses. 

There  are  some,  and  perhaps  many,  who  make  the  ques- 
tion whether  Saturday  or  Sunday  evening  is  to  be  kept,  an 
excuse  for  keeping  neither.  But  those  who  wish  to  obey 
God's  commands,  will  keep  one  or  the  other  faithfully  ;  and 
one  great  design  in  having  uncertainty  in  such  cases  as  this, 


270  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

is  unquestionably  to  try  us — to  see  who  does  and  who  does 
not  wish  on  vain  pretexts  to  evade  God's  commands. 

I  proceed  to  consider  the  spirit  and  manner  in  which 
the  Sabbath  should  be  kept. 

The  Sabbath  is  designed  to  interpose  an  effectual  inter- 
ruption to  all  worldly  business,  and  to  promote  as  highly  as 
possible  the  improvement  of  the  character.  Do,  then,  these 
two  things  :  first,  suspend  all  worldly  pursuits  ;  and,  second, 
spend  the  day  in  such  a  manner  as  will  best  promote  your 
spiritual  improvement.  The  first  point  is  easy ;  I  shall 
therefore  pass  it  by,  and  direct  my  attention  immediately  to 
the  last. 

There  are  wise  and  there  are  unwise  ways  of  keeping 
the  Sabbath  holy.  James  is  a  boy  who  has  set  his  heart 
upon  reading  the  Bible  through  in  as  short  a  time  as  possible, 
and  he  thinks  there  is  no  way  of  spending  the  Sabbath  so 
properly  as  by  his  carrying  forward  this  good  work  with  all 
his  strength.  He  carries  his  Bible  to  bed  with  him  at  night, 
and  places  it  under  his  pillow,  that  he  may  read  as  soon  ag 
it  is  light  in  the  morning.  You  may  see  him  at  breakfast- 
time  counting  up  the  chapters  he  has  read,  and  calculating 
how  long  it  will  take,  him  at  that  rate  to  get  through  a 
certain  book.  He  can  hardly  wait  for  family  prayers  to 
be  over,  he  is  so  eager  to  drive  forward  Ins  work.  He  reads 
a  great  many  chapters  in  the  course  of  the  day,  and  lies 
down  at  night  congratulating  himself  on  his  progress  ;  but 
alas,  he  has  made  no  progress  in  piety.  Reading  chapters 
in  the  Bible  as  if  he  was  reading  on  a  wager,  is  not  making 
progress  in  piety.  He  has  not  examined  his  heart  that  day. 
He  has  not  made  resolutions  for  future  duty.  He  has  net 
learned  to  be  a  more  dutiful  son,  a  more  affectionate  brother, 
or  a  more  humble  and  devoted  Christian.  No,  he  has  read 
twenty  chapters  in  the  Bible.  He  has  been  making  no  new 
discoveries  of  his  secret  sins,  has  obtained  no  new  views  of 


THE  SABBATH.  271 

his  duty,  has  not  drawn  nigh  to  God  and  found  peace  and 
happiness  in  communion  with  him ;  no,  he  has  had  no  time 
for  that — he  has  been  busy  all  day  running  over  Ins  twenty 
chapters  in  the  Bible.  It  were  well  if  James  was  aware 
that  his  real  motive  for  this  work  is  the  pride  of  thinking 
and  perhaps  of  telling  others  how  much  he  has  read,  and 
that  the  cultivation  of  such  a  spirit  is  a  bad  way  of  spending 
God's  holy  day.  I  would  not  say  a  word  against  reading 
the  Bible,  but  it  must  be  read  in  a  proper  manner.  Many 
a  boy  has  wasted  every  hour  of  the  Sabbath,  and  yet  done 
little  else  but  read  the  Bible  from  morning  to  night. 

Many  young  persons  think  there  is  no  way  to  break  the 
Sabbath  but  by  work  or  play.  But  the  spirit  and  mean- 
ing of  the  fourth  command  undoubtedly  is,  that  the  Sab- 
bath should  be  devoted  to  the  real  improvement  of  the 
Christian  character.  And  if  this  is  neglected,  the  Sabbath 
is  broken,  no  matter  in  what  way  its  hours  may  have  been 
spent. 

Yes,  if  this  is  neglected,  the  command  is  disobeyed ;  no 
formal  attention  to  any  external  duty  whatever  can  be  made 
a  substitute.  A  boy  sits  at  Iris  window  studying  his  Sabbath- 
school  lesson ;  his  object,  I  will  suppose,  is  not  to  learn  his 
duty  and  to  do  it,  but  he  wishes  to  surpass  some  companion 
at  the  recitation,  or  perhaps  is  actuated  by  a  mere  selfish 
desire  to  obtain  a  reward  which  has  been,  perhaps  very  im- 
properly, offered  him  ;  he  looks  out  of  the  window  across  the 
valley  winch  extends  before  his  father's  house,  and  sees  upon 
a  beautiful  pond  there,  a  boat  full  of  his  playmates  pushing 
off  from  the  shore  on  an  excursion  of  pleasure. 

"Ah,"  says  he,  "those  wicked  boys,  they  are  breaking 
the  Sabbath." 

Yes,  they  are  breaking  the  Sabbath — and  so  is  he ;  both 
are  perverting  it.  God  looks  at  the  heart,  and  requires  that 
all  should  spend  the  Sabbath  in  sincere  efforts  to  discover 
and  confess  and  abandon  sin,  and  to  become  pure  and  holy 


272  THE   YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

and  devoted  to  him.  Now,  both  the  hoys  in  the  boat  and 
the  one  at  the  window  are  neglecting  this.  They  are  doing 
it  for  the  pleasure  of  a  sail ;  he  is  doing  it  for  the  honor  of 
superiority  in  his  class.  The  day  is  misspent  and  perverted 
in  both  cases. 

Mrs.  X is  the  mother  of  several  children,  and  she  is 

exceedingly  desirous  that  all  her  family  should  faithfully  keep 
the  Sabbath.  She  cannot  bear  the  thought  that  it  should 
be  profaned  by  any  under  her  roof.  Before  sacred  time 
comes,  therefore,  the  whole  house  is  put  in  order,  all  worldly 
business  is  brought  to  a  close,  so  that  the  minds  of  all  her 
family  may  be  free.  All  this  is  excellent  ;  but  how  does 
she  actually  spend  the  sacred  hours  ?  Why,  her  whole 
attention  is  devoted  to  enforcing  the  mere  external  duties  of 
religion  in  her  household.  She  is  careful  to  banish  every 
secular  book  ;  she  requires  one  child  to  sit  still  and  read  the 
Bible  ;  another  she  confines  to  a  prayer-book,  or  to  some  good 
book  of  religious  exhortation  ;  a  third  is  kept  studying  a 
Sabbath-school  lesson.  All,  however,  must  be  still ;  it  is  her 
great  desire  and  aim  to  banish  every  thing  like  worldly  work 
or  play.  There  must  be  no  light  conversation,  and  even  the 
little  infant  creeping  upon  the  floor,  has  to  relinquish  her 
playthings  and  spend  the  day  in  inaction. 

Now,  when  night  comes,  this  mother  thinks  that  she  has 
kept  the  Sabbath,  and  induced  her  household  to  keep  it  too  ; 
and  perhaps  she  has.  But  all  that  I  have  described  does 
not  prove  that  she  has  kept  it  according  to  God's  original 
design.  God  did  not  institute  the  Sabbath  in  order  merely 
that  children  might  be  kept  from  play,  or  that  they  might 
be  forced  to  read,  mechanically,  good  books  ;  but  that  they 
might,  in  worshipping  and  serving  him,  improve  their  char- 
acters, and  make  real  preparation  for  another  world.  Now, 
unless  a  mother  adopts  such  methods  as  shall  most  effectu- 
ally promote  the  spiritual  improvement  of  her  children,  and 
unless  she  succeeds  in  interesting  them  in  it,  she  does  not 


THE  SABBATH.  273 

attain  the  object  in  view.  If  your  children  are  spending 
the  day  in  a  cold  and  heartless  manner,  complying  with 
your  rules  from  mere  fear  of  your  authority,  they  are  not, 
properly  speaking,  keeping  the  Sabbath.  The  end  in  view 
is  not  attained. 

But  many  a  mother  who  reads  this  will  ask,  "  How  can 
I  interest  my  children  in  such  efforts  to  improve  ?"  You 
will  find  a  hundred  ways,  if  you  set  your  hearts  upon  it. 
The  only  danger  is,  that  you  will  not  fully  feel  the  necessity 
of  it.  You  are  satisfied,  or  there  is  great  danger  that  you 
will  be  satisfied  with  the  mere  formality  of  external  decorum 
on  the  Lord's  day,  forgetting  that  the  empire  in  which  your 
influence  ought  to  reign  on  that  day,  is  the  empire  of  the 

heart,  not  the  external  conduct  only. You  ought,  therefore, 

to  aim  at  adopting  such  means  of  addressing  and  influenc- 
ing your  children  as  shall  seem  best  calculated  to  reach  and 
control  their  hearts.  If  you  really  wish  to  do  this,  and 
really  try  to  do  it,  you  will  soon  learn. 

Imagine  such  a  scene  as  this  :  A  mother,  with  several 
children  under  eight  or  ten  years  of  age,  collects  them  in 
her  chamber  on  a  pleasant  Sabbath  afternoon  in  summer, 
and  with  a  cheerful  countenance  and  pleasant  tone  of  voice, 
when  all  are  seated,  addresses  them  as  follows  : 

"Well,  children,  you  know  what  the  Sabbath  is  for;  it 
is  to  give  us  time  and  opportunity  to  improve.  I  suppose 
you  want  to  improve.  One  way  to  do  it  is  to  find  out  our 
faults,  and  then  correct  them.  Are  you  willing  now  to  try 
to  find  out  your  faults  ?" 

"  Yes,  mother." 

11 1  have  thought  of  this  plan.  How  should  you  like  it? 
I  will  pause  a  minute  or  two,  and  we  will  all  try  to  think 
of  faults  that  we  have  seen  among  ourselves  last  week.  You 
may  try,  and  I  will  try.  After  a  minute  or  two,  I  will  ask 
you  all  around.     Should  you  like  to  do  this  ?" 

A  mother  who  manages  her  children  in  a  proper  mannei 

12* 


274  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

with  habitual  kindness  and  affection,  will  receive  a  cordial 
assent  to  such  a  proposal  as  this.  After  a  few  minutes  she 
puts  the  question  round  : 

"  Mary,  have  you  thought  of  any  thing?" 
"  Yes,  mother ;  I  think  that  John  and  I  quarrel  some- 
times." 

"  Do  you  think  of  any  particular  case  which  happened 
last  week?" 

Mary  hesitates,  and  John  looks  a  little  confused. 

"  You  may  do  just  as  you  please,"  says  the  mother, 
"  about  mentioning  it.  It  is  unpleasant  to  think  and  talk 
about  our  faults,  and  of  course  it  will  be  unpleasant  for  you 
to  describe  particularly  any  thing  wrong  which  you  have 
done.  But  then  if  you  do  lionestiy  and  frankly  confess  it, 
I  think  you  will  be  much  less  likely  to  do  wrong  in  the  same 
way  next  week." 

Mary  then  tells,  in  her  own  simple  style,  the  story  of 
some  childish  contention,  not  with  the  shrinking  and  hesi- 
tation of  extorted  acknowledgment,  but  openly  and  frankly, 
and  in  such  a  manner  as  greatly  to  diminish  the  danger  of 
falling  into  such  a  sin  again.  When  she  has  said  all,  which, 
however,  may  not  perhaps  have  been  more  than  two  or 
three  sentences,  the  mother  continues,  addressing  herself  to 
the  others  : 

"  "Well,  children,  you  have  heard  what  Mary  has  said. 
Have  you  observed  any  thing  in  her  expressions  winch 
tended  to  show  that  she  has  wished  to  throw  the  blame  off 
upon  John  ?" 

They  will  probably  say,  Yes.  A  child  would  not  be  a 
very  impartial  historian  in  such  a  case,  and  other  children 
would  be  very  shrewd  to  detect  the  indications  of  bias. 

"Now  I  do  not  know,"  says  the  mother,  "but  that  John 
was  most  to  blame.  Mary  told  the  story,  on  the  whole,  in 
a  very  proper  manner.  I  only  asked  the  question,  to  re- 
mind you  all  that  our  object  is  now  to  learn  our  own  faults, 


THE  SABBATH.  275 

and  to  correct  them ;  and  you  must  all  try  to  see  as  much 
as  possible  where  you  yourselves  have  been  to  blame." 

She  then  turns  to  some  passages  of  the  Bible  on  the 
subject  of  forbearance  and  harmony  between  brothers  and 
sisters,  and  reads  them — not  for  the  purpose  of  loading  her 
children  with  invective  and  reproach,  but  of  kindly  and 
mildly  pointing  out  what  God's  commands  are,  and  the 
necessity  as  well  as  the  happiness  of  obeying  them. 

If  this  is  done  in  a  proper  manner,  and  if  the  mother 
watches  the  feelings  of  her  little  charge,  and  applies  her 
means  of  influence  skilfully,  she  may  hope  to  succeed,  cer- 
tainly after  one  or  two  trials,  in  producing  a  dislike  of  con- 
tention, a  desire  to  avoid  it,  and  a  resolution  to  sin,,  in  this 
respect,  no  more.  She  may  in  the  same  manner  go  through 
the  circle- — fault  after  fault  will  be  brought  up,  its  nature 
and  its  consequences  kindly  pointed  out,  and  those  com- 
mands of  God  which  bear  upon  the  subject,  plainly  brought 
to  view.  The  interview  may  be  closed  by  a  short  and  sim- 
ple prayer — that  God  will  forgive,  for  Christ's  sake,  the  sins 
they  have  confessed,  and  give  them  all  strength  to  resist 
temptation  during  the  coming  week.  Such  an  exercise,  if 
managed  as  every  kind  and  faithful  mother  can  manage  it, 
will  generally  succeed ;  the  children  will  go  away  from  it 
with  consciences  relieved  in  some  degree  from  the  burden  of 
sin ;  they  will  look  back  upon  it  as  a  serious,  but  a  happy 
interview,  and  will  feel — though  a  wise  mother  will  not  be 
overanxious  to  draw  from  them  an  expression  of  that  feel- 
ing— that  it  is  a  happy  thing  to  repent  of  sin,  and  to  return 
to  duty.  I  asked  my  readers  at  the  outset  to  imagine  this 
scene ;  but  in  fact  it  is  not  an  imaginary  scene — in  sub- 
stance, it  is  reality. 

This,  now,  is  a  proper  employment  of  a  part  of  the  Sab- 
bath. Such  an  influence  comes  to  the  heart,  and  it  accom- 
plishes directly  and  immediately  the  very  object  that  God 
had  in  view  in  the  appointment  of  the  Sabbath.     I  only 


276  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

offer  it,  however,  as  a  specimen ;  if  repeated  in  exactly  th»s 
form  every  Sabbath,  the  sameness  might  become  tiresome. 
The  idea  which  I  mean  to  convey  is,  that  the  heart  must 
be  reached,  and  the  process  of  improvement  must  be  advanc- 
ing, or  the  object  of  the  Sabbath  is  lost.  Let  my  young 
readers  remember  this.  Unless  you  are  improving  and  ele- 
vating your  character,  discovering  your  faults  and  correcting 
them,  learning  God's  will  as  it  applies  to  your  own  conduct, 
confessing  and  forsaking  your  sins,  and  looking  by  faith  to 
the  Saviour — unless  you  are  doing  such  work  as  this,  you 
cannot  be  properly  keeping  the  Sabbath-day.  The  simple 
question  then  is,  are  you  willing  to  devote  honestly  and  con- 
scientiously one  day  in  seven  to  real  and  sincere  efforts  to 
make  progress  in  piety  ? 

If  you  are  willing,  and  every  Christian  certainly  will  be, 
you  are  not  to  go  forward  blindly,  reading  and  reflecting 
without  system  or  plan,  on  the  vain  supposition  that  if  the 
mind  is  actually  employed  on  religious  subjects,  all  is  going 
on  well.  You  must  take  into  careful  consideration  the 
nature  of  the  human  mind,  and  the  means  which,  according 
to  the  laws  which  the  Creator  has  given  it,  are  most  cal- 
culated to  have  an  influence  over  it.  This  principle  will 
require  attention  to  several  points. 

1.  Variety  in  ffie  exercises  of  the  Sabbath.  "When  I 
was  thinking  of  this  topic,  and  considering  how  I  should 
present  it  here,  I  one  day  accidentally  fell  into  conversation 
with  a  clergyman  who  had  had  far  more  experience  as  a 
teacher  than  I  have  enjoyed.  I  requested  him  to  reduce 
to  writing  the  views  he  expressed,  that  I  might  insert  them 
here.     He  soon  after  sent  me  the  following  : 

"  Many  Christians  who  feel  deeply  the  importance  ol 
spending  the  Sabbath  in  a  proper  manner,  find,  notwith- 
standing all  their  endeavors,  that  the  sacred  hours  do  at 
times  pass  heavily  along.  Now  the  Sabbath  should  be  not 
only  the  Christian's  most  profitable,  but  most  happy  day. 


THE  SABBATH.  277 

I  once  knew  a  young  Christian  who  resolved  that  he  would 
pass  the  whole  day  in  prayer ;  but  very  soon  he  became 
exhausted  and  weary.  He  however  persevered  through  the 
whole  day,  with  the  exception  of  the  few  necessary  inter- 
ruptions ;  and  when  night  came,  he  felt  a  deadness  and 
exhaustion  of  feeling  which  he  unhappily  mistook  for  spir- 
itual desertion.  No  human  mind  can,  hi  ordinary  cases, 
sustain  such  long  and  intense  application  to  one  subject ; 
there  must  be  variety,  to  give  cheerfulness  and  to  invigo- 
rate. Often  a  conscientious  young  Christian  takes  his  Bible, 
resolving  to  spend  the  Sabbath  in  reading  the  Bible  and  in 
prayer.  He  perhaps  passes  an  hour  or  two  in  this  way  very, 
pleasantly,  and  then  he  feels  tired ;  he  tries  to  rouse  his 
feelings,  and  bitterly  condemns  himself  for  unavoidable  lan- 
guor. I  have  known  persons  to  be  greatly  disquieted  and 
distrustful  of  their  Christian  character,  because  they  could 
not  pass  the  whole  of  the  Sabbath  pleasantly  in  uninter- 
rupted reading  the  Bible  and  prayer. 

"  There  is  a  wide  difference  between  spiritual  desertion 
and  mental  exhaustion.  To  avoid  this  mental  exhaustion, 
and  to  keep  the  spirits  animated  and  cheerful,  much  variety 
of  pursuit  is  necessary.  Who  would  be  willing  to  go  to 
church,  and  have  the  whole  time  occupied  with  a  sermon, 
or  a  prayer,  or  a  hymn  ?  How  few  are  there  who  can,  with 
pleasure  and  profit,  listen  to  a  sermon  of  one  hour's  length. 
There  must  be  a  diversity  of  exercises  to  make  public  wor- 
ship agreeable,  and  there  must  be  diversity  to  give  pleasure 
to  private  devotion. 

"Let  the  sacred  hours  of  the  Sabbath,  then,  be  appro- 
priated to  a  variety  of  religious  employments.  Suppose  the 
case  of  a  young  married  man.  He  wishes  to  pass  the  Sab- 
bath in  a  way  acceptable  to  God,  and  to  enjoy  his  religious 
duties.  He  rises  in  good  season  in  the  morning,  and  com- 
mences the  day  with  a  short,  but  fervent  prayer  for  the 
divine  blessing ;  he  then  passes  the  time  till  breakfast  in 


278  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

reading  the  Bible.  Perhaps,  for  the  sake  of  variety,  he 
spends  a  part  of  the  time  in  reading  the  devotional  por- 
tions, and  a  part  in  perusing  its  interesting  history.  At  the 
breakfast-table,  with  cheerful  countenance  and  heart,  he 
leads  the  conversation  to  religious  subjects  ;  after  breakfast 
he  passes  an  hour  in  reading  some  valuable  religious  book. 
Books  are  so  numerous  now,  that  the  best  practical  works 
upon  Christianity  are  easily  obtained  by  all.  ^Bunyan's  Pil- 
grim's Progress,  Baxter's  Saints'  Rest  and  Call  to  the 
Unconverted,  Doddridge's  Rise  and  Progress,  and  kindred 
works,  are  of  standard  merit,  and  works  with  which  all 
Christians  may,  and  should  be  acquainted.  It  is  very  de- 
sirable that  the  Christian  should  have  on  hand  some  such 
book,  which  he  will  read  in  course,  a  moderate  portion  every 
day,  until  he  has  finished  it. 

"  At  length  the  time  arrives  for  the  assembling  of  his 
family  for  morning  prayers.  He  carries  his  principle,  for 
securing  an  interesting  variety,  here.  Sometimes  he  will 
read  religious  intelligence  from  a  periodical  \  sometimes  he 
reads  an  interesting  narrative  from  a  tract — always  taking 
care  to  select  something  which  will  excite  attention.  After 
finishing  this,  he  opens  the  Bible  and  selects  some  appropri- 
ate passage,  and  reads  it,  with  occasional  remarks,  intended 
to  deepen  the  impression  upon  his  own  mind,  and  upon  the 
minds  of  those  in  the  circle  around  him.  He  then  reads  a 
hymn,  and  after  singing  a  few  verses,  if  the  family  are  able 
to  sing,  bows  at  the  family  altar  in  prayer.  The  variety 
which  he  has  thus  introduced  into  the  exercise  has  continued 
to  interest  the  feelings,  and  no  occasion  has  been  offered  for 
lassitude  or  tedium. 

"He  now  walks  the  room  for  exercise,  and  reviews  the 
past  week ;  he  thinks  of  the  opportunities  to  do  good  which 
he  has  neglected ;  examines  his  feelings  and  his  conduct,  and 
in  ejaculatory  prayer,  seeks  forgiveness.  When  he  enters 
the  place  of  public  worship  his  mind  is  ready  for  active  scr- 


f,  or  TBI 

THE  SABBATH.    W'Q  j'\   |  279 

vice  there — he  unites  with  his  pastor  in  prayer.  When  a 
hymn  is  read,  he  attends  to  the  sentiment,  and  makes  mel- 
ody in  heart  to  God  when  singing  his  praises.  He  listens 
attentively  to  the  sermon,  feeling  that  the  responsibility  of 
being  interested,  in  it  comes  upon  him,  and  he  prays  that 
God  will  bless  it  to  his  own  soul,  and  to  the  conversion  of 
others. 

"  Perhaps,  in  the  interval  between  forenoon  and  afternoon 
service,  he  has  a  class  in  the  Sabbath-school,  or  is  himself  a 
member  of  the  Bible  class  :  these  duties  he  performs  with 
a  sincere  desire  to  do  good.  After  the  close  of  the  afternoon 
services  he  retires  for  secret  prayer.  He  appropriates  a  prop- 
er period  to  this  duty,  and  presents  his  own  private  and  per- 
sonal wants,  and  the  spiritual  interests  of  others,  in  minute 
detail  to  God  :  he  looks  forward,  too,  to  the  duties  of  the 
week ;  he  brings  before  his  mind  the  temptations  to  which 
he  will  be  exposed,  the  opportunities  for  exerting  a  Christian 
influence  which  he  possesses,  and  forms  his  plans  of  Chris- 
tian usefulness  for  the  week ;  he  thinks  of  some  good  object 
which  he  will  try  to  advance,  of  some  individual  whom  he 
will  try  to  lead  to  the  Saviour.  He  forms  his  resolutions, 
and  perhaps  writes  them  down,  that  he  may  refer  to  them 
again  the  next  Sabbath,  in  the  review  of  the  week.  At  the 
appointed  hour  he  assembles  his  family  for  evening  prayers. 
A  brief  reference  to  the  religious  exercises  of  the  day,  or 
some  interesting  narrative,  followed  by  the  Bible,  singing,  and 
prayer,  again  give  variety  and  animation  to  the  exercise  ; 
and  when  all  the  duties  of  the  day  are  over,  as  he  is  retiring 
to  rest,  he  passes  the  few  moments  which  remain  before 
slumber  has  wrapt  his  senses  in  forgetfulness,  in  reviewing 
the  duties  of  the  day.  The  Sabbath  has  been  profitably  and 
happily  spent.  It  has  been  to  him  a  rich  season  of  improve- 
ment and  of  enjoyment.  He  has  made  a  Sabbath-day's 
journey  towards  heaven  ;  he  has  obtained  strength  to  meet 
the  allurements  and  temptations  of  life.     During  the  week 


280  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

he  looks  back  upon  the  Sabbath  with  pleasure,  and  when 
the  light  of  another  holy  morning  dawns  upon  him,  he  can 
sincerely  say, 

"  Welcome,  delightful  morn, 
Thou  day  of  sacred  rest; 
I  hail  thy  kind  return — 

Lord,  make  these  moments  blest." 

"  In  this  way  the  Sabbath  is  a  delight.  It  is  a  day  of 
refreshment,  and  the  spirit  of  man  longs  eagerly  for  its  ap- 
proach. I  have  introduced  the  above  example  simply  as  an 
illustration  of  what  I  mean  by  saying  that  there  should  be 
variety  in  the  exercises  of  the  Sabbath.  Probably  no  one 
who  reads  these  pages  will  find  it  expedient  to  adopt  pre- 
cisely the  same  course.  But  all  may  proceed  upon  the  same 
principle,  and  adapt  their  plans  to  their  situation. 

2.  "  System  in  the  exercises  of  the  Sabbath.  Much 
time  is  often  lost  upon  the  Sabbath  for  want  of  a  regular 
plan.  If  a  person  reads  half  an  hour  in  the  Bible,  and  then 
stops  to  think  what  he  shall  take  up  next,  his  mind  is  per- 
plexed. He  says,  '  Shall  I  now  retire  for  secret  prayer,  or 
shall  I  read  a  tract,  or  shall  I  take  up  Baxter's  Saints'  Rest?' 
Several  moments  are  lost  in  deciding.  Perhaps  he  takes 
Baxter ;  but  while  reading,  he  stops  to  consider  whether  it 
would  not  have  been  better  to  have  taken  something  else ; 
and  then  his  mind  is  diverted  from  his  book  by  thinking 
what  he  shall  next  read :  thus  much  time  is  lost,  and  the 
mind  is  perplexed.  It  is  therefore  wisdom  to  have  a  plan 
previously  formed  for  the  whole  day.  With  a  little  reflection 
a  plan  may  easily  be  formed,  appropriating  systematically 
the  time  of  the  Sabbath  to  the  several  duties  which  ought 
to  be  performed.  Many  persons  constantly  do  this.  In  all 
cases  there  will  be  unavoidable  interruptions.  But  we  may 
derive  much  assistance  from  rules,  without  making  ourselves 
slaves  to  them.  If  you  have  domestic  duties  which  must 
be  performed  upon  the  Sabbath,  have  them  performed,  if  pos- 


THE  SABBATH.  2S1 

sible,  by  a  given  hour,  that  they  may  not  intrude  upon  all 
the  hours  of  the  sacred  day.  If  you  are  constantly  exposed 
to  interruptions,  if  there  is  no  time  of  the  day  which  you  can 
call  your  own,  then  let  your  plans  be  formed  in  accordance 
with  this  peculiarity  in  your  situation.  Three  things  all 
may  guard  against — indolence,  a  worldly  spirit,  and  too  long 
application  of  the  mind  to  one  subject.  There  are  no  law- 
ful situations  in  life,  in  which  we  may  not  pass  the  day  with 
improvement  to  ourselves  and  acceptably  to  God." 

3.  Rest  on  the  Sabbath.  We  ought  to  remember,  that 
God  has  ordained  the  Sabbath  as  a  day  of  rest  from  labor, 
as  well  as  a  day  of  spiritual  improvement,  and  it  ought  to 
be  made  such. 

It  is  undoubtedly  wrong  to  apply  our  minds  so  uninter- 
ruptedly to  religious  duties  during  the  day,  as  to  feel  worn 
out  and  exhausted  at  night.  There  are  indeed  some  excep- 
tions ;  ministers  and  Sabbath-school  teachers  must,  in  fact, 
often  do  a  very  hard  day's  work  on  the  Sabbath  ;  they  are 
laboring  for  the  religious  good  of  others,  and  must  be  often 
fatigued  by  their  efforts.  But  Christians  generally  must  not 
so  fill  up  the  hours  with  mental  labor  as  to  prevent  the  rest 
which  God  requires  on  his  holy  day. 

These  three  points,  variety,  system,  and  rest,  ought  to  be 
attended  to  in  order  to  secure  the  greatest  possible  moral 
progress  in  that  day.  A  teacher  of  a  school  would  be  very 
unwise,  were  he  to  require  his  pupils  to  spend  the  whole  of 
a  day  in  actual  study — much  less  would  he  keep  them  dur- 
ing all  that  time  upon  one  single  book  or  subject.  Nor 
would  he,  on  the  other  hand,  relinquish  all  system,  and  do 
every  hour  whatever  should  happen  to  suggest  itself  to  his 
thoughts.  He  knows  that  his  pupils  will  actually  advance 
more  rapidly  if  he  systematizes,  and  at  the  same  time  varies 
their  exercises,  and  allows  intervals  of  rest  and  recreation. 
The  Christian  too,  who  watches  the  movements  of  his  own 
mind — and  every  Christian  ought  to  do  this — will  soon  learn 


282  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

that  he  must  adopt  substantially  the  same  plan,  if  he  wishes 
to  make  rapid  progress  in  piety. 

I  will  now  proceed  to  mention,  in  order  to  be  specific, 
several  duties  which  I  think  ought  to  be  performed  on  the 
Sabbath.  I  advise  every  one  of  my  readers,  immediately 
after  perusing  my  account  of  these  duties,  to  sit  down  and 
form  a  plan  for  himself,  assigning  to  each  one  of  them  an 
appropriate  place,  devoting  an  hour  or  half  an  hour  to 
each,  according  to  his  age  and  his  circumstances  in  other 
respects.  Tins  plan  ought  not,  however,  to  occupy  all  the 
hours  of  the  day ;  some  should  be  left  unappropriated,  to 
allow  opportunity  for  rest,  and  to  perform  such  duties  as 
may  from  time  to  time  arise  to  view.  Make  your  plan, 
and  resolve  to  try  it  for  one  Sabbath  only.  You  can  then 
consider  whether  to  continue  it,  or  to  modify  it,  or  to  aban- 
don it  altogether. 

1 .  Self-examination,  I  do  not  mean  by  this,  the  mere 
asking  yourself  some  general  questions  in  regard  to  your 
heart,  and  the  habitual  feelings  of  it.  I  mean,  going  over 
minutely  the  various  occurrences  of  the  week,  to  see  what 
you  have  done,  and  what  motives  have  actuated  you.  You 
can  attend  to  this  most  successfully,  by  considering  the  sub- 
ject under  several  distinct  heads. 

(1.)  Your  ultimate  object  of  pursuit.  Think  what  has 
chiefly  interested  and  occupied  you  during  the  week,  and 
what  is  the  final,  ultimate  object  you  have  in  view  in  what 
you  have  been  doing.  Review  all  the  labors  that  have  been 
connected  with  that  pursuit,  whatever  it  may  be,  and  find 
in  what  respects  you  have  been  pursuing  your  object  with  a 
wrong  spirit. 

(2.)  Duties  to  parents.  Consider  what  has  been  your 
conduct  towards  your  "parents,  if  you  are  still  connected  with 
them.  Have  you  had  any  difficulty  of  any  kind  with  them? 
Have  they  reproved  you  once  during  the  week,  or  been  dis- 


THE   SABBATH.  283 

satisfied  with  you  in  any  respect  ?  If  so,  what  was  it  for  ? 
Think  over  the  whole  occurrence,  and  see  wherein  you  were 
to  blame  in  it ;  look  at  your  habitual  conduct  towards  your 
parents,  or  those  under  whose  care  you  are  placed.  Have 
you  at  any  time  disobeyed  them,  or  neglected  to  obey  them 
with  alacrity  ?  Have  you  had  any  dispute  with  them,  or 
been  sullen  or  ill-humored  on  account  of  any  of  their  meas- 
ures? You  must  look  also  to  the  other  side  of  the  question, 
and  consider  what  good  you  have  done  to  your  parents. 
Self-examination  implies  the  investigation  of  what  is  right 
in  the  character,  as  well  as  what  is  wrong.  "What  good, 
then,  have  you  done  to  your  parents  ?  In  what  cases  did 
you  comply  with  their  wishes  when  you  were  tempted  not  to 
comply  ?  When  did  you  give  them  pleasure  by  your  atten- 
tion, or  by  your  faithful  and  ready  obedience  to  their  com- 
mands ?  You  can  spend  half  an  hour  most  profitably,  not 
in  merely  answering  these  individual  questions,  but  in  a  care- 
ful review  of  all  your  conduct  towards  your  parents,  going 
into  minute  detail. 

(3.)  Companions.  What  has  been  your  deportment  tow- 
ards your  companions  ?  How  many  have  you  made  happier 
during  the  pasl^  week  ?  Think  of  what  good  you  have  done, 
and  of  the  way  in  which  you  did  it.  How  many  too  have 
you  made  unhappy  ?  If  you  have  had  any  contention,  call 
to  mind  all  the  circumstances  of  it — the  angry,  or  reproach- 
ful, or  ill-humored  words  which  you  have  used,  and  the  spirit 
of  heart  which  you  cherished.  It  will  require  a  long  time 
to  review  thoroughly  all  those  events  of  a  week  which 
illustrate,  the  spirit  with  winch  you  have  acted  towards 
your  companions. 

{4  )  Fidelity  in  business.  YTou  have  some  employment 
in  which  you  ought  to  have  been  diligent  and  faithful  during 
the  week.  Look  over  minutely  your  conduct  in  this  respect ; 
begin  with  Monday  morning  and  come  down  to  Saturday 
night,  and  see,  by  a  careful  examination  of  the  labors  of  the 


28<1  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

week,  -whether  you  have  been  "  diligent  in  business,  fervent 
in  spirit,  serving  the  Lord." 

(5.)  Secret  sins.  This  is  a  most  important  head  of  self- 
examination.  You  have  committed  secret  sins;  you  have 
cherished  feelings  which  others  have  not  known,  or  you  have 
in  secret  done  what  you  would  blush  to  have  exposed  to 
view.  Explore  all  this  ground  thoroughly,  and  confess  and 
forsake  such  sins. 

I  might  mention  a  number  of  similar  points,  but  it  is 
unnecessary,  as  my  object  is  only  to  show  that  self-exainina- 
tion,  to  be  effectual,  must  be  minute,  and  must  be  brought 
to  bear  immediately  and  directly  upon  the  actual  conduct. 
You  will  succeed  much  better  if  you  divide  the  ground  in 
some  such  manner  as  above  described. 

2.  Prayer.  This  is  the  second  duty  which  I  shall  men- 
tion, for  which  a  place  ought  .to  be  particularly  assigned  on 
the  Sabbath.  I  have  in  several  places  in  this  book  alluded 
to  the  subject  of  prayer,  and  I  shall  merely  here  say  in  what 
respects  prayer  on  the  Sabbath  should  be  peculiar.  More 
time  should  be  allotted  to  the  exercise,  and  it  should  also 
take  a  wider  range.  Consider  your  whole  character,  and 
look  back  upon  the  past,  and  forward  to  the  future,  so  as  to 
take  a  comprehensive  view  of  your  condition  and  prospects, 
and  let  your  supplications  be  such  as  this  extended  survey 
will  suggest  to  you. 

There  is  one  thing,  however,  which  I  ought  to  say  here, 
though  I  shall  speak  more  distinctly  of  it  in  a  subsequent 
chapter.  It  is  this  :  Take  a  firm  and  an  immovable  stand 
in  the  duty  of  secret  prayer  ;  let  nothing  tempt  you  to  neg- 
lect or  postpone  or  curtail  it,  or  pass  over  the  season  of 
your  communion  with  God  in  a  hurried  and  formal  manner. 
Keglecting  the  closet  is  the  beginning  of  backsliding,  and  .he 
end  of  happiness  and  peace. 

3.  Studying  the  Bible.  In  the  chapter  devoted  ex- 
pressly to  this  subject,  I  have  mentioned  a  variety  of  meth- 


THE   SABBATH.  285 

ods  by  which  the  study  of  the  Bible  may  be  made  more 
interesting  and  profitable  than  it  now  ordinarily  is.  Every 
young  Christian  ought  to  allot  a  specific  and  regular  time, 
every  Sabbath-day,  to  the  systematic  study  of  the  Bible  by 
some  such  methods  as  those. 

4.  Conversation.  The  older  and  more  intelliffent  mem- 
bers  oFa family  may  do  much  towards  making  the  day  pass 
pleasantly  and  profitably,  by  making  some  effort  to  prepare 
subjects  for  conversation.  Suppose  a  family  take  such  a 
course  as  this  :  A  daughter  studying  the  Bible  alone  in  her 
chamber,  finds  some  difficult  and  yet  interesting  question 
arising  from  the  passage  she  is  investigating.  "  I  will  ask 
about  it  at  dinner,"  she  says  ;  "  my  brothers  and  sisters  will 
be  interested  in  it  and  in  father's  answer ;  for  perhaps  he 
will  be  able  to  answer  it."  The  mother  is  reading  some 
Christian  biography,  and  coming  to  an  interesting  passage, 
she  says  to  herself,  "  I  will  tell  this  story  at  dinner  to-day, 
it  will  interest  the  children."  The  father  inquires  mentally, 
as  the  dinner-hour  approaches,  "  What  shall  we  talk  about 
to-day  ?"  Perhaps  he  recollects  some  occurrence  which  has 
taken  place  during  the  week  which  illustrates  some  religious 
truth,  or  is  an  example  of  religious  duty.  Thus  each  one 
"comes  to  the  table  prepared  to  contribute  something  to  the 
common  stock  of  conversation.  The  dinner-hour,  in  such  a 
case,  will  not  pass  heavily  ;  all  will  be  interested  and  profited 
by  the  remarks  which  will  be  made  on  the  various  topics 
which  will  come  up.  If  any  family  into  which  this  book 
may  come  will  really  try  this  experiment,  they  will  find,  in 
a  very  short  time,  that  subjects  for  conversation  will  come 
up  in  far  greater  numbers,  and  exciting  much  greater  inter- 
est than  they  would  at  first  have  supposed.  There  may 
be  an  agreement  made  at  breakfast,  that  each  one  of  the 
family  will  endeavor  to  bring  forward  some  fact  or  some 
question  at  dinner,  and  then  the  father  may  call  upon  all 
in  turn. 


v/ 


286  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

A  great  many  persons  imagine  that  conversation  is  some- 
thing that  must  be  left  entirely  to  itself — that  there  can  be 
no  preparation  for  it,  and  no  arrangements  made  to  secure 
interest  and  profit  from  it.  But  the  truth  is,  ifihere  is  any 
thing  which  demands  forethought  and  arrangement,  it  is  this 
very  business  of  conversation — especially  religious  conversa- 
tion on  the  Sabbath.  Without  some  such  efforts  as  I  have 
above  described,  the  Christian  family,  when  assembled  at 
dinner  or  tea.  must  spend  the  time  in  silence  or  frivolous 
remarks,  criticisms  upon  the  preacher,  or  discussions  on  sub- 
jects which  keep  those  who  are  conscientious  constantly 
uneasy,  because  they  doubt  whether  the  subjects  upon 
which  they  are  speaking  are  suitable  to  the  sacredness  of 
the  Lord's  day. 

Many  persons  have  no  idea  of  religious  conversation, 
excepting  a  forced  and  formal  exhortation  from  the  master 
of  the  family,  or  from  a  Christian  minister.  They  cannot 
understand  how  a  whole  family  can  be  interested,  from  the 
aged  grand-parent  down  to  the. youngest  child,  in  a  conver- 
sation exactly  calculated  to  promote  the  objects  of  the  Sab- 
bath. But  let  such  persons  try  the  experiment  I  have  men- 
tioned above,  and  they  will  discover  their  mistake.  The 
ways  by  which  a  family  may  be  interested  by  means  of 
judicious  and  ingenious  efforts  on  the  part  of  a  parent,  or  an 
older  brother  or  sister,  are  very  numerous.  Sometimes  a 
question  may  be  proposed  in  regard  to  duty.  A  case  may  be 
imagined,  or  some  real  case  which  has  actually  occurred  may 
be  stated,  and  the  question  may  be  asked,  What  ought  to  be 
done  in  such  a  case  ?  Or  some  question  may  be  started  for 
discussion — I  do  not  mean  for  formal  argument  as  in  a  par- 
liamentary assembly,  but  for  .free  interchange  of  opinion. 

5.  Public  icorship.  It  is  perfectly  astonishing  what  a 
tendency  there  is  among  mankind,  and  even  among  Chris- 
tians, to  throw  off  the  whole  responsibility  of  public  worship 
upon  the  nrinister.     The  disposition  is  almost  universal. 


THE  SABBATH.  287 

Come  with  me  into  this  church  and  observe  the  congrega- 
tion assembled.  The  minister  reads  a  hymn,  and  while  he 
is  reading  it,  how  great  a  proportion  of  the  hearers  are  en- 
tirely regardless  of  its  contents.  He  rises  to  offer  a  prayer, 
and  if  we  could  see  the  hearts  of  those  present,  how  many 
we  should  find  who  are  really  making  no  effort  at  all  to  ac- 
company him  to  the  throne  of  grace.  At  last  he  names  his 
text,  and  the  eyes  of  almost  all  the  assembly  are  turned 
towards  him.  As  he  looks  over  the  congregation  he  sees  an 
expression  of  interest  upon  the  countenances  of  his  hearers, 
and  perhaps  expects  they  are  going  to  listen  with  interest 
to  what  he  has  to  say.  He  begins  the  delivery  of  his  mes- 
sage, endeavoring  to  explain  to  them  the  principles  of  duty,  or 
to  present  .the  considerations  which  should  urge  them  to  it. 
Now  let  me  ask,  while  this  exercise  is  going  forward,  upon 
whom  does  the  responsibility  of  it  chiefly  come  ?  Is  it  the 
duty  of  a  minister  to  interest  the  people,  or  that  of  the  peo- 
ple to  be  interested  by  their  own  efforts  in  the  message  the 
minister  brings  ?  Are  you,  in  receiving  a  message  from 
above,  to  reject  it,  or  listen  to  it  carelessly  and  with  an  inat- 
tentive and  listless  air,  because  it  is  not  presented  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  compel  yon.,  by  the  novelty  of  its  illustrations 
or  the  beauty  of  its  diction,  to  give  it  your  regard  ? 

A  farmer  sends  his  boys  into  a  field  to  spend  the  day  in 
work.  He  tells  them  what  to  do  for  an  hour,  and  says,  that 
after  that  time  he  shall  send  a  man  to  explain  to  them  how 
they  are  to  proceed  through  the  day.  The  boys  go  on  with 
their  work,  until  at  length  the  expected  messenger  appears. 
He  begins  to  tell  them  how  the  land  is  to  be  ploughed,  or 
•in  what  way  the  father  wishes  the  seed  to  be  put  into  the 
ground.  The  boys  listen  to  him  a  minute  or  two,  until  one, 
perceiving  some  oddity  in  the  man's  manner,  bursts  into  a 
laugh  ;  another  sits  down  on  a  green  bank  under  a  tree,  and 
gradually  falls  into  a  state  of  drowsy  insensibility ;  a  third 
looks  away  with  vacant  countenance  upon  the  hills  and 


2£S  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

mountains  around,  utterly  regardless  of  the  message.  The 
boys,  consequently,  do  not  learn  what  their  father  wishes 
them  to  do,  and  do  not  do  it  ;  and  when  night  comes,  and 
they  are  called  to  account  for  the  labors  of  the  day,  they  try 
to  justify  themselves  with  this  preposterous  excuse  :  "  Why," 
they  say  to  their  father,  "the  man  you  sent  us  was  not  an 
interesting  man,  and  so  we  did  not  pay  any  attention  to  his 
message.  He  had  no  talent  at  making  his  mode  of  explana- 
tion novel  and  striking,  and  so  we  did  not  listen  to  it."  "I 
could  not  possibly  fix  my  attention,"  says  one.  "  He  was  a 
very  sleepy  talker,"  says  another ;  "I  could  not  keep  awake." 
"  He  was  dressed  so,"  says  a  third,  "and  he  had  such  a  tone, 
that  I  could  not  help  laughing  at  him." 

Such  are  the  excuses  which  many  persons  give  for  not 
giving  heed  to  religious  instruction  on  the  Sabbath.  They 
try  to  throw  off  all  responsibility  upon  the  minister ;  and  if 
he  does  not  awaken,  by  the  power  of  his  genius,  an  interest 
in  their  minds,  they  consider  themselves  entirely  excused 
from  feeling  any.  They  say  in  substance  to  themselves, 
"  We  know  we  have  disobeyed  God,  and  he  is  sending  us 
messengers  to  communicate  to  us  the  offers  of  forgiveness  for 
the  past  and  direction  for  the  future ;  but  unless  he  sends  us 
agreeable  and  ingenious'  and  eloquent  men,  we  will  pay  no 
attention  to  any  of  them." 

Wrho  can  stand  in  the  judgment  with  such  an  excuse? 
And  yet,  it  is  the  actual  feeling  of  thousands.  But,  my 
reader,  I  do  urge  you  to  abandon  altogether  this  plan  of 
throwing  off  upon  the  minister  whom  Providence  has  sent 
to  you,  the  responsibility  of  the  interest  you  take  in  public 
instruction.  It  is  his  duty  to  deliver  his  message  plainly  and 
intelligibly,  but  it  is  your  duty,  most  unquestionably,  to  be 
interested  in  it.  Go  to  public  worship  feeling  that  you  have 
something  to  do  there.  You  must  be  interested  in  what  you 
hear,  if  it  is  a  plain  exhibition  of  religious  truth  ;  and  you 
must  apply  it  to  your  own  conscience  and  heart  by  real  ac- 


THE  SABBATH.  289 

live  effort,  or  you  must  incur  the  guilt  of  rejecting  the  mes- 
sage from  heaven.  JThe  less  interesting  the  preacher  is,  the 
more  active  and  the  more  arduous  the  duty  of  his  hearers. 
They  should  look  him  steadily  in  the  face,  and  listen  in 
silence  and  with  deep  attention  to  what  he  has  to  say ;  and 
feel  at  all  times,  that  while  it  is  the  minister's  duty  to  be 
faithful  in  delivering  his  message,  it  is  their  most  imperious 
duty  to  take  heed  how  they  hear. 

There  are  a  great  many  persons  who  are  very  constant 
in  their  attendance  upon  public  worship,  and  who  think 
their  motive  is  respect  for  religion,  and  a  desire  to  obey  God's 
commands,  when  in  fact  they  are  controlled  by  other  mo- 
tives altogether.  I  do  not  mean  by  this,  that  they  attend 
public  worship,  and  sustain  by  their  influence  the  ordinances 
of  religion,  through  a  distinct  and  deliberate  design  of  merely 
promoting,  in  some  way,  their  own  worldly  interest  by  it. 
Actual,  intentional  hypocrisy,  is  a  means  which  few  men 
will  knowingly  adopt  to  accomplish  their  purposes.  It  is 
so  evidently  mean  and  base,  that  even  the  honorable  princi- 
ples of  this  world  are  usually  sufficient  to  preserve  the 
breasts  of  men  from  its  pollution.  It  is  degrading  and  hu- 
miliating to  admit  it,  knowingly  and  voluntarily,  as  a  prin- 
ciple of  action.  The  great  danger  is  from  a  hypocrisy,  or 
something  nearly  allied  to  it,  which  comes  hi  secrecy  or  dis- 
guise. It  is  not  always  an  easy  thing  for  us  to  decide  by 
what  motives  we  are  governed  in  the  actions  which  we 
perform.  "We  are  often  swayed  by  inducements,  of  which, 
without  rigid  and  impartial  scrutiny,  we  are  entirely  uncon- 
scious ;  for  there  may  be  one  motive  of  fair  and  honorable 
appearance,  which  stands  out  to  the  view  of  the  individual 
as  the  director  of  his  actions  ;  and  there  may  be  another  of 
far  different  character,  which  in  reality  guides  him,  but 
which  is  coiled  up  like  a  main-spring,  in  a  secret  place,  and 
thus  eludes  his  observation.  The  Bible,  when  it  teaches  us 
that  the  heart  is  deceitful  above  all  things,  tells  us  nothing 

Y.  Christian.  1 3 


1/ 


290  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

which  an  unbiassed  observation  of  human  nature  will  not 
everywhere  confirm. 

Now,  if  some  sinister  motive  is  for  a  time  actuating  a 
Christian  in  his  religious  course,  he  can  very  easily  detect  it 
by  the  manner  in  which  the  public  duties  of  the  Sabbath 
are  performed.  A  man  who  is  secretly  influenced  by  surne 
worldly  consideration  in  what  he  does,  may  be  attentive 
and  faithful  in  all  the  open  and  public  services  of  religion. 
If  we  are  thus  influenced,  however,  as  it  is  external  ap- 
pearance only  which  can  bring  us  worldly  advantage,  we 
shall  go  no  farther  than  the  outward  appearance.  "We  may 
rise  with  God's  people  in  his  house  of  prayer,  and  assume 
the  posture  of  reverential  supplication ;  but  if  appearances 
are'  all  which  we  regard,  we  shall  be  satisfied  with  merely 
assuming  the  posture.  "We  may  join  with  our  lips  in  the 
song  of  praise ;  and  if  to  be  seen  of  men  is  our  object,  the 
service  of  the  lip  is  all  that  is  necessary  for  its  accomplish- 
ment, and  that  will  be  all  to  which  we  shall  aim.  And  we 
may  listen  with  apparent  attention  to  the  message  which  the 
preacher  delivers,  but  the  appearance  of  attention  will  be  all, 
if  our  object  is  such  that  this  appearance  will  attain  it. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  an  honest  intention  of  worshipping 
God  be  the  motive  which  calls  a  man  to  the  weekly  assembly, 
it  will  carry  him  farther  than  a  mere  compliance  with  the 
external  form.  When,  in  the  season  of  prayer,  recognizing 
the  presence  of  the  great  God  of  heaven  and  earth,  he  rises 
to  assume  the  attitude  of  respectful  reverence,  his  heart  will 
feel  the  reverence  which  his  action  implies.  His  thoughts, 
instead' of  wandering  to  the  ends  of  the  earth,  will  ascend  in 
devout  aspirations  to  heaven.  Contrition  for  the  offences 
which  he  has  committed  against  that  Being  who  has  been 
kind  to  him  as  a  father — resolutions  to  conform  his  conduct 
and  character  more  completely  to  the  divine  will — longings 
for  that  assistance  from  above,  without  which,  past  experi- 
ence and  the  word  of  God  inform  him  that  his  efforts  will 


THE  SABBATH.  291 

be  strength  spent  for  naught — and  ardent  supplications  for 
blessings  upon  his  fellow-men,  dictated  by  a  benevolence 
which  comprises  in  its  view  the  whole  human  family,  and 
which  looks  forward,  in  its  good-will  to  men,  to  the  enjoy- 
ments of  eternity,  as  well  as  to  the  comforts  and  conveniences 
of  time — these  will  be  the  emotions  which  will  control  thr» 
heart  of  the  man  of  sincerity,  while  the  affections  of  the  man 
of  form  will  be  grovelling  upon  the  farm,  the  money,  or  the 
merchandise. 

The  song  of  praise  too,  from  the  one  who  really  worships 
God,  will  not  be  merely  music  on  the  tongue,  it  will  be  an 
expression  of  warm  feeling  from  the  heart.  The  voice  of 
adoration  and  praise  will  arise  from  a  soul  which  adores  and 
praises,  and  which,  as  it  lifts  up  that  voice,  will  be  itself 
elevated  by  the  emotions  of  gratitude  and  love  ;  while  the 
offerer  of  an  external  worship  will  be  lost  in  vacancy  during 
the  singing  of  God's  praises,  or  only  interested  m  the  mere 
music  of  the  song. 

And  in  listening  to  the  sermon,  the  conscientious  wor- 
shipper will  give  earnest  heed  to  the  things  which  relate  to 
his  everlasting  peace.  Knowing  that  he  has,  in  multiplied 
instances,  transgressed  a  law  which  God  has  established  and 
enforced  by  dreadful  sanctions,  he  is  convinced  that  it  be- 
comes him  to  attend  in  earnest  to  the  means  of  averting  the 
consequences  of  his  guilt.  "With  this  view,  his  mind  is  fixed 
in  attention  to  the  way  of  reconciliation  with  God,  and  to 
the  duties  which  devolve  upon  him  who  cherishes  hopes  of 
immortality  ;  while  all  this  time  he  who  is  contented  with 
outward  conformity,  is  lost  in  a  mental,  and  perhaps  in  a 
bodily  slumber. 

Let  me  urge  my  readers,  then,  to  be  careful  how  they 
perform  the  duties  of  public  worship.  The  responsibility  of 
being  interested  in  them,  and  profited  by  them,  comes  chiefly 
upon  you.  You  cannot  throw  it  off  upon  your  minister. 
Examine  yourself  with  reference  to  the  spirit  and  feelings 


292  THE  YOUNG   CHRISTIAN. 

with  which  these  duties  are  performed.  They  afford  you  a 
very  fine  opportunity  for  close  and  faithful  self-examination ; 
for  the  sinister  motives  which,  in  a  greater  or  less  degree, 
undoubtedly  exist  hi  your  hearts,  will  show  themselves  here. 

There  is  one  thing  more  that  I  ought  to  present  to  the 
consideration  of  my  readers  before  closing  the  chapter  on  this 
subject.     It  is  this  : 

In  keeping  the  Sabbath,  avoid  all  appearance  of  evil. 
I  have  endeavored  in  this  discussion  to  accomplish  two  ob- 
jects. First,  to  convince  my  readers  that  the  mere  form  in 
which  the  Sabbath  is  kept,  except  so  far  as  it  is  a  matter  of 
express  command,  is  not  material ;  and  secondly,  to  convey 
to  the  mind  a  distinct  idea  of  what  I  understand  to  be  the 
spirit  of  the  command,  and  to  persuade  all  my  readers  to 
aim  at  producing,  by  the  best  means  within  their  reach,  upon 
their  own  hearts  and  lives  the  effect  which  God  had  design- 
ed in  the  establishment  of  the  institution.  From  these  views 
of  the  subject,  were  I  to  stop  here,  it  might  seem  that  if  we 
take  such  a  course  as  shall  really  secure  our  own  religious 
improvement  on  the  Sabbath,  we  may  do  it  in  any  way ; 
for  example,  that  we  may  walk,  or  ride,  or  visit,  provided 
that  we  so  regulate  and -control  our  thoughts  and  conversa- 
tion as  to  make  the  spiritual  improvement  which  it  is  the 
object  of  the  day  to  secure.  But  no.  We  must  avoid  the 
appearance  of  evil.  We  must  not  seem  to  be  breaking  or 
disregarding  God's  commands. 

For  example.  A  Christian  living  on  the  sea-shore,  after 
having  spent  the  day  in  the  various  duties  which  have  pre- 
sented themselves  to  his  attention,  stands  at  the  door  of  his 
house  and  looks  out  upon  the  glassy  surface  of  the  bay  which 
stretches  before  him.  It  is  a  summer  evening.  The  sun  is 
just  setting,  throwing  his  bright  beams  over  the  water,  and 
gilding  every  object  upon  which  it  shines.  The  Christian 
looks  over  this  scene  of  beauty,  and  its  expression  of  calm- 


THE   SABBATH.  293 

ness  and  peace  is  transferred  to  his  own  soul.  He  feels  the 
presence  of  God  in  it  all,  and  rejoices  in  the  power  and  good- 
ness of  the  great  Being  who  reigns  in  every  scene  of  beauty 
or  of  grandeur  which  nature  exhibits. 

With  Ins  heart  filled  with  such  thoughts,  he  walks  down 
upon  the  beach  to  indulge  in  the  contemplation  of  God's 
goodness  to  mankind  and  to  him.  Now  he  is,  it  must  be 
admitted,  while  doing  this,  accomplishing  the  object  of  the 
Sabbath  by  meditation  on  the  character  of  God.  He  may 
say,  perhaps,  that  his  views  of  divine  goodness  and  power  are 
more  distinct  and  vivid  while  he  is  walking  out  among  the 
beauties  of  nature,  if  his  heart  is  in  a  right  state,  than  they 
would  be  if  he  was  shut  up  in  his  study.  Why  then  may 
he  not  walk  out  at  evening  ? 

And  why  may  he  not  step  into  the  little  boat  which 
floats  in  the  cove,  and  unloosen  its  chain  and  push  himself 
off  from  the  shore,  that  while  rocked  by  the  gentle,  dying 
swell  of  the  sea,  he  may  lose  himself  more  completely  in  the 
absorbing  feeling  of  God's  presence,  and  muse  more  uninter- 
ruptedly upon  his  Creator's  power  ?     Shall  he  go  ? 

No  ;  stop,  Christian,  stop.  Before  you  spend  your  half- 
hour  in  a  boat  upon  the  water,  or  even  in  your  evening  walk, 
consider  what  will  be  the  influence  of  the  example  you  are 
going  to  set  to  others.  "Will  you  ajjpear,  while  you  are  doing 
this,  to  be  remembering  the  Sabbath-day  to  keep  it  holy  ? 
Is  it  best,  on  the  whole,  that  riding,  walking,  and  sailing 
should  be  among  the  occupations  of  holy  time  ?  Will  God 
be  honored  and  his  Sabbath  kept  if  all  spend  the  Sabbath 
evening  as  you  are  about  to  spend  it  ? 

These  questions  must  be  answered  on  a  principle  which 
will  apply  to  multitudes  of  other  cases.  Take  a  course 
which,  were  it  universally  imitated,  would  promote  the 
greatest  good  ;  otherwise  you  may  be  doing  that  which, 
though  safe  for  yourself,  will  be  of  incalculable  injury, 
through  the  influence  of  your  example  upon  others. 


294  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

CHAPTER    X. 

TRIAL   AND   DISCIPLINE, 

"  Strangers  and  pilgrims  on  the  earth." 

I.  NATURE   OF    TRIAL. 

The  Bible  everywhere  conveys  the  idea  that  this  life  is 
not  our  home,  but  a  state  of  probation,  that  is,  of  trial  and 
discipline,  which  is  intended  to  prepare  us  for  the  life  to 
come.  In  order  that  all,  even  the  youngest  of  my  readers, 
may  understand  what  is  meant  by  this,  I  shall  illustrate  it 
by  some  familiar  examples  drawn  from  the  actual  business 
of  life. 

When  a  large  steam-boat  is  built  with  the  intention  of 
having  her  employed  upon  the  waters  of  a  great  river,  she 
must  be  proved  before  put  to  service.  Before  trial,  it  is 
somewhat  doubtful  whether  she  will  succeed.  In  the  first 
place,  it  is  not  absolutely  certain  whether  her  machinery 
will  work  at  all.  There  may  be  some  flaw  in  the  iron,  or 
an  imperfection  in  some  part  of  the  workmanship,  which 
will  prevent  the  motion  of  her  wheels.  Or  if  this  is  not  the 
case,  the  power  of  the  machinery  may  not  be  sufficient  to 
propel  her  through  the  water  with  such  force  as  to  overcome 
the  current ;  or  she  may,  when  brought  to  encounter  the 
rapids  at  some  narrow  passage  in  the  stream,  not  be  able  to 
force  her  way  against  their  resistance. 

The  engineer  therefore  resolves  to  try  her  in  all  these 
respects,  that  her  security  and  her  power  may  be  properly 
proved  before  she  is  intrusted  with  her  valuable  cargo  of 
human  lives.  He  cautiously  builds  a  fire  under  her  boiler ; 
he  watches  with  eager  interest  the  rising  of  the  steam-gage, 
and  scrutinizes  every  part  of  the  machinery  as  it  gradually 
comes  under  the  control  of  the  tremendous  power  which  he 


TRIAL  AND  DISCIPLINE.  295 

is  cautiously  applying.  With  what  interest  does  he  observe 
the  first  stroke  of  the  ponderous  piston  ;  and  when  at  length 
the  fastenings  of  the  boat  are  let  go,  and  the  motion  is  com- 
municated to  the  wheels,  and  the  mighty  mass  slowly  moves 
away  from  the  wharf,  how  deep  and  eager  an  interest  does 
he  feel  in  all  her  movements  and  in  every  indication  he  can 
discover  of  her  future  success. 

The  engine,  however,  works  imperfectly,  as  every  one 
must  on  its  first  trial ;  and  the  object  in  this  experiment  is 
not  to  gratify  idle  curiosity  by  seeing  that  she  will  move,  but 
to  discover  and  remedy  every  little  imperfection,  and  to 
remove  every  obstacle  which  prevents  more  entire  success. 
For  this  purpose  you  will  see  our  engineer  examining,  most 
minutely  and  most  attentively,  every  part  of  her  complicated 
machinery.  The  crowd  on  the  wharf  may  be  simply  gazing 
on  her  majestic  progress  as  she  moves  off  from  the  shore,  but 
the  engineer  is  within  looking  with  faithful  examination  into 
all  the  minutiae  of  the  motion.  He  scrutinizes  the  action  of 
every  lever  and  the  friction  of  every  joint ;  here  he  oils  a 
bearing,  there  he  tightens  a  nut ;  one  part  of  the  machinery 
has  too  much  play,  and  he  confines  'it — another  too  much 
friction,  and  he  loosens  it ;  now  he  stops  the  engine,  now 
reverses  her  motion,  and  again  sends  the  boat  forward  in  her 
course.  He  discovers,  perhaps,  some  great  improvement  of 
which  she  is  susceptible,  and  when  he  returns  to  the  wharf 
and  has  extinguished  her  fire,  he  orders  the  necessary 
alterations. 

The  next  day  he  puts  his  boat  to  the  trial  again,  and 
she  glides  over  the  water  more  smoothly  and  swiftly  than 
before.  The  jar  which  he  had  noticed  is  gone,  and  the  fric- 
tion reduced ;  the  beams  play  more  smoothly,  and  the  alter- 
ation which  he  has  made  produces  a  more  equable  motion  in 
the  shaft,  or  gives  greater  effect  to  the  stroke  of  the  paddles 
upon  the  water. 

When  at  length  her  motion  is  such  as  to  satisfy  him, 


296  THE   YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

upon  the  smooth  surface  of  the  river,  he  turns  her  course 
towards  the  rapids,  to  see  how  she  will  sustain  a  greater 
trial.  As  he  increases  her  steam,  to  give  her  power  to 
overcome  the  new  force  with  which  she  has  to  contend,  he 
watches  her  boiler  with  eager  interest,  inspects  the  gage 
and  the  safety-valves,  and  from  her  movements  under  the 
increased  pressure  of  her  steam  he  receives  suggestions  for 
further  improvements,  or  for  precautions  which  will  insure 
greater  safety.  These  he  executes  ;  and  thus  he  perhaps 
goes  on  for  many  days,  or  even  weeks,  trying  and  examin- 
ing, for  the  purpose  of  improvement,  every  working  of  that 
mighty  power,  to  which  he  knows  hundreds  of  lives  are  soon 
to  be  intrusted.  This  now  is  probation — trial  for  the  sake 
of  improvement.  And  what  are  its  results  ?  Why,  after 
this  course  has  been  thoroughly  and  faithfully  pursued,  this 
floating  palace  receives  upon  her  broad  deck,  and  in  her 
carpeted  and  curtained  cabins,  her  four  or  five  hundred 
passengers,  who  pour  in,  in  one  long  procession  of  happy 
groups,  over  the  bridge  of  planks — father  and  son,  mother 
and  children,  young  husband  and  wife — all  with  implicit  con- 
fidence trusting  themselves  and  their  dearest  interests  to  her 
power.  See  her  as  she  floats  away — how  beautiful  and  yet 
how  powerful  are  all  her  motions  !  That  beam  glides  up 
and  down  gently  and  smoothly  in  its  grooves,  and  yet,  gentle 
as  it  seems,  hundreds  of  horses  could  not  hold  it  still ;  there 
is  no  apparent  violence,  but  every  movement  is  with  almost 
irresistible  power.  How  graceful  is  her  form,  and  yet  how 
mighty  is  the  momentum  with  which  she  presses  on  her 
way.  Loaded  with  life,  and  herself  the  very  symbol  of  life 
and  power,  she  seems  something  unreal,  which,  ere  we  look 
again,  will  have  vanished  away.  And  though  she  has 
within  her  bosom  a  furnace  glowing  with  furious  fires,  and  a 
reservoir  of  death — the  elements  of  most  dreadful  ruin  and 
conflagration — of  destruction  the  most  complete,  and  agony 
the  most  unutterable ;  and  though  her  strength  is  equal  to 


TRIAL  AND  DISCIPLINE.  297 

the  united  energy  of  two  thousand  men,  she  restrains  it  all. 
She  was  constructed  by  genius,  and  has  been  tried  and  im- 
proved by  fidelity  and  skill ;  and  one  man  governs  and  con- 
trols her,  stops  her  and  sets  her  in  motion,  turns  her  this 
way  and  that,  as  easily  and  certainly  as  the  child  guides  the 
gentle  lamb.  She  walks  over  the  hundred  and  sixty  miles 
of  her  route  without  rest  and  without  fatigue,  and  the  pas- 
sengers who  have  slept  in  safety  hi  their  berths,  with  destruc- 
tion by  water  without,  and  by  fire  within,  defended  only  by 
a  plank  from  the  one,  and  by  a  sheet  of  copper  from  the 
other,  land  at  the  appointed  time  in  safety. 

My  reader,  you  have  within  you  susceptibilities  and 
powers  of  which  you  have  little  present  conception,  energies 
which  are  hereafter  to  operate  in  producing  fulness  of  enjoy- 
ment or  horrors  of  suffering  of  which  you  now  but  little  con- 
ceive. You  are  now  on  trial.  God  wishes  you  to  prepare 
yourself  for  safe  and  happy  action.  He  wishes  you  to  look 
within,  to  examine  the  complicated  movements  of  your  heart, 
to  detect  what  is  wrong,  to  modify  what  needs  change,  and 
rectify  every  irregular  motion.  You  go  out  to  try  your 
moral  powers  upon  the  stream  of  active  life,  and  then  return 
to  retirement,  to  improve  what  is  right  and  remedy  what  is 
wrong.  Renewed  opportunities  of  moral  practice  are  given 
you,  that  you  may  go  on  from  strength  to  strength  until 
every  part  of  that  complicated  moral  machinery  of  which 
the  human  heart  consists,  will  work  as  it  ought  to  work, 
and  is  prepared  to  accomplish  the  mighty  purposes  for  which 
your  powers  are  designed.  You  are  on  trial — on  probation 
now.     You  will  enter  upon  active  service  in  another  world. 

In  order,  however,  that  the  reader  may  understand  fully 
the  views  to  be  presented  in  this  chapter,  I  wish  to  point 
out  particularly  the  difference  between  the  condition  of  the 
boat  I  have  described,  when  she  was  on  trial,  and  when  she 
was  afterwards  in  actual  service.  While  she  was  on  trial  she 
sailed  this  way  and  that,  merely  for  the  purpose  of  ascertain- 

13* 


298  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

ing  her  powers  and  her  deficiencies,  in  order  that  the  former 
might  be  increased,  and  the  latter  remedied.  The  engineer 
steered  her  to  the  rapids,  we  supposed ;  but  it  was  not  be- 
cause he  particularly  wished  to  pass  the  rapids,  but  only  to 
try  the  power  of  the  boat  upon  them.  Perhaps  with  the 
same  design  he  might  run  along  a  curved  or  indented  shore, 
penetrating  deep  into  creeks,  or  sweeping  swiftly  round  pro- 
jecting headlands;  and  this,  not  because  he  wishes  to  exam- 
ine that  shore,  but  only  to  see  how  his  boat  will  obey  her 
helm.  Thus  he  goes  on  placing  her  again  and  again  in  sit- 
uations of  difficulty,  for  the  purpose  simply  of  proving  her 
powers,  and  enabling  him  to  perfect  the  operation  of  her 
machinery.  Afterwards,  when  she  comes  into  actual  ser- 
vice, when  she  has  received  her  load,  and  is  transporting  it 
to  its  place  of  destination,  the  object  is  entirely  changed ; 
service,  not  improvement,  is  now  the  aim.  Her  time  of 
trial  is  ended. 

The  Bible  everywhere  considers  this  world  as  one  of 
trial  and  discipline,  introductory  to  another  world  of  actual 
service.  A  child,  as  he  comes  forward  into  life,  is  surround- 
ed with  difficulties  which  might  easily  have  been  avoided  if 
the  Ruler  over  all  had  wished  to  avoid  them.  But  he  did 
not.  That  child  is  on  trial — moral  trial ;  and  just  exactly 
as  the  helmsman  of  the  steam-boat  steered  her  to  the  rapids 
for  the  purpose  of  bringing  her  into  difficulty,  so  does  God 
arrange  the  circumstances  of  childhood  and  youth  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  bring  the  individual  into  various  difficulties 
which  will  try  his  moral  powers,  and,  by  discovering  to  him 
his  own  sinfulness  and  weakness,  prepare  him  to  receive 
Christ  as  his  righteousness  and  strength. 

Moreover,  he  may  learn  contentment  and  submission  by 
the  thousand  disappointments  which  occur,  patience  and 
fortitude  by  his  various  sufferings,  and  perseverance  by  en- 
countering the  various  obstacles  which  oppose  his  progress. 
These   difficulties  and   sufferings  and   obstacles  might  all 


TRIAL  AND  DISCIPLINE.  299 

have  easily  been  avoided.  God  might  have  so  formed  the 
human  mind,  and  so  arranged  the  circumstances  of  life,  that 
every  thing  should  have  gone  smoothly  with  us.  But  he 
designs  these  things  as  trials — trials  for  the  sake  of  our  im- 
provement ;  and  he  has  filled  life  with  them,  from  the  cradle 
to  the  grave. 

To  obtain  a  vivid  idea  of  this,  let  us  look  at  this  little 
child.  She  is  just  able  to  walk  about  the  floor  of  her  moth- 
er's parlor,  and  though  her  life  is  full  of  sources  of  happi- 
ness, it  is  full  likewise  of  sources  of  disappointment  and  suf- 
fering. A  moment  since  she  was  delighted  with  a.  plaything 
which  her  mother  had  given  her,  but  now  she  has  laid  it 
aside,  and  is  advancing  towards  a  valuable  book  which  lies 
upon  the  chair.  She  is  just  reaching  out  her  little  hand  to 
take  it,  when  she  is  arrested  by  her  mother's  well-known 
voice : 

"  Mary,  Mary  must  not  touch  the  book." 

A  child  as  young  as  this  will  understand  language  though 
she  cannot  use  it,  and  she  will  obey  commands.  She  looks 
steadily  at  her  mother  a  moment  with  an  inquiring  gaze,  as 
if  uncertain  whether  she  heard  aright.  The  command  is 
repeated : 

"  No,  Mary  must  not  touch  the  book." 

The  child,  I  will  suppose,  has  been  taught  to  obey,  but 
in  such  a  case  as  this  it  is  a  hard  duty.  Her  little  eyes  fill 
with  tears,  which  perhaps  she  makes  an  effort  to  drive  away, 
and  soon  seeks  amusement  elsewhere.  Now,  if  such  a  child 
has  been  managed  right,  she  will  be  improved  by  such  a 
trial.  The  principle  of  obedience  and  submission  will  have 
been  strengthened ;  it  will  be  easier  for  her  to  yield  to  pa- 
rental command  on  the  next  occasion. 

But  see,  as  she  totters  along  back  to  her  mother,  she 
trips  over  her  little  stool  and  falls  to  the  floor.  The  terror 
and  pain,  though  we  should  only  smile  at  it,  are  sufficient 
to  overwhelm  her  entirely.     Her  mother  gently  raises  her, 


300  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

tries  to  soothe  her,  and  soon  you  can  distinctly  perceive  that 
the  child  is  struggling  to  repress  her  emotions.  Her  sobs 
are  gradually  restrained,  the  tears  flow  less  freely,  and  soon 
the  sunshine  of  a  smile  lights  up  her  face,  and  she  jumps 
down  again  to  play.  This  now  has  been  a  useful  trial ; 
pain  and  fright  have  once  been  conquered,  and  will  have 
less  power  over  her  in  future. 

But  though  there  is  a  real  and  most  important  benefit 
to  be  derived  from  these  trials  of  infancy,  the  child  herself 
cannot  understand  it.  No  child  can  become  prepared  for 
the  future  duties  of  life  without  them,  and  yet  no  child  of 
such  an  age  can  understand  why  they  are  necessary.  The 
mother  might  say  to  her,  in  attempting  to  explain  it,  as 
follows  : 

"  Mary,  I  might  save  you  from  all  these  difficulties  and 
troubles  if  I  chose.  I  might  put  you  in  a  room  where  every 
thing  was  cushioned  so  that  you  could  not  hurt  yourself,  and 
I  might  keep  carefully  out  of  your  sight  every  article  which 
you  ought  not  to  have.  Thus  you  might  be  saved  all  your 
pains  and  disappointments.  But  I  choose  not  to  do  this. 
I  want  you  to  become  useful  and  happy  hereafter,  and  so 
you  must  learn  submission,  and  patience,  and  fortitude  now. 
So  I  leave  the  book  in  the  chair,  where  you  can  see  it,  and 
tell  you  you  must  not  touch  it ;  and  I  leave  you  to  fall  a 
little  now  and  then,  for  the  pain  only  lasts  a  moment.  But 
if  you  try  to  conquer  your  fe^ars  and  bear  the  pain  patiently, 
it  will  do  you  lasting  good;  your  character  will  acquire 
firmness  and  vigor,  and  you  will  thus  be  prepared  for  the 
duties  of  future  life." 

The  child  now  would  not  understand  all  this,  but  it 
would  be  true,  whether  she  understood  it  or  not,  and  the 
judicious  mother,  who  knows  what  is  the  design  of  educa- 
tion and  the  manner  in  which  children  are  to  be  trained  up 
to  future  duty,  will  not  be  sorry  to  have  her  children  re- 
peatedly tried.     These  repeated  trials  are  the  very  means 


TRIAL  AND  DISCIPLINE.  301 

of  forming  their  characters,  and  were  it  possible  to  avoid 
them  entirely,  instead  of  meeting  and  conquering  them,  the 
child  exposed  to  such  a  course  of  treatment  would  be 
ruined.  Sometimes  parents  seem  to  make  efforts  to  avoid 
them,  and  in  going  into  such  a  family  you  will  find  the 
shovel  and  tongs,  perhaps,  placed  out  of  the  way,  so  that 
the  children  cannot  touch  them,  and  the  mother  will  not 
dare  to  bring  a  plate  of  cake  into  the  room  for  fear  that 
they  should  cry  for  it.  Instead  of  accustoming  them  to 
trials  of  this  kind,  and  teaching  them  obedience  and  sub- 
mission, she  makes  a  vam  effort  to  remove  all  occasion  for 
the  exercise  of  self-denial.  If,  perchance,  these  remarks  are 
read  by  any  mother  who  feels  that  she  is  pursuing  the 
course  which  they  condemn,  I  would  stop  a  moment  to  say 
to  her  as  follows  : 

"Do  you  expect  that  you  can  govern  your  children  for 
fifteen  years  to  come  in  this  way  ?  Can  you  put  every  thing 
which,  during  all  this  period,  they  shall  want,  which  they 
ought  not  to  have,  out  of  the  way,  as  you  do  the  shovel  and 
tongs?" 

"  No,"  you  reply,  smiling,  "  I  do  not  expect  to  do  it. 
My  child  will  soon  become  older,  and  then  I  can  teach  him 
obedience  more  easily." 

"  You  never  can  teach  him  obedience  so  easily  as  when 
he  is  first  able  to  understand  a  simple  command,  and  that 
is  long  before  he  is  able  to  walk.  And  there  is  no  way  by 
which  obedience  and  submission  can  be  so  effectually  taught 
to  child  or  to  man  as  by  actual  trial.  That  is  the  way  in 
which  God  teaches  it  to  you,  and  that  is  the  way  you  ought 
to  teach  it  to  your  child.  God  never  puts  sin  away  out 
of  our  reach  ;  he  leaves  it  all  around  us,  and  teaches  us 
by  actual  trial  to  resist  its  calls." 

"I  know  this  is  right,"  you  reply;  "but  sometimes  I 
am  busy — I  am  engaged  in  important  duties,  and  do  not 
wish  to  be  interrupted ;  and  on  such  occasions  I  remove 


302  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

improper  playthings  out  of  the  reach  of  my  child,  because, 
just  then,  I  have  not  time  to  teach  him  a  lesson  of  obe- 
dience." 

But  what  important  business  is  that  which  you  put  into 
competition  with  the  whole  character  and  happiness  of  your 
child  ?  If  your  sons  or  your  daughters  grow  up  in  habits 
of  disobedience  to  your  commands,  they  will  imbitter  your 
life,  and  bring  down  your  grey  hairs  with  sorrow  to  the 
grave.  You  never  can  gain  an  ascendency  over  them  so 
easily  as  in  infancy — and  you  cannot  in  any  other  way  so 
effectually  undermine  your  power,  and  prevent  your  ever 
obtaining  an  ascendency  over  them,  as  by  accustoming 
them  in  childhood  to  understand,  that  in  your  endeavors  to 
keep  them  from  doing  what  is  wrong,  you  do  not  aim  at 
strengthening  their  own  moral  principle,  and  accustoming 
them  to  meet  and  to  resist  the  ordinary  temptations  of  life, 
but  that  you  depend  upon  a  vain  effort  to  remove  them 
entirely  away  from  trial ;  so  that  if  you  could  succeed,  you 
render  it  equally  impossible  for  them  to  do  right  or  wrong. 

Yes ;  trial  is  essential  in  childhood,  and  God  has  so 
arranged  the  circumstances  of  early  life,  that  parents  cannot 
evade  it.  It  must  come.  It  may  be  removed  in  a  very 
few  cases,  but  that  only  brings  additional  difficulty  upon 
those  that  remain  ;  and  it  is  far  better  not  to  attempt  to 
evade  it  at  all.  Come  up  then,  parents,  boldly  to  the  work 
of  accustoming  your  children  to  trial.  If  you  see  a  child 
going  towards  an  open  door,  do  not  run  to  shut  it  so  that 
he  cannot  go  out ;  command  him  not  to  go,  and  enforce 
obedience  ;  if  you  do  any  thing  to  the  door  at  all,  throw  it 
wide  open,  and  say  mildly,  "  I  will  see  whether  you  will 
disobey."  Do  not  put  the  book  or  the  paper  which  you 
wish  him  not  to  touch  high  upon  a  shelf,  away  from  his 
reach ;  if  you  change  its  place  at  all,  lay  it  upon  the  floor, 
and  tell  him  not  to  touch  it.  Remember,  that  youth  is  a 
season  of  probation  and  trial,  and  unless  you  avail  yourself 


TRIAL  AND  DISCIPLINE.  303 

of  the  opportunities  of  probation  and  trial  which  it  presents, 
you  lose  half  the  advantages  which  the  Creator  had  in  view 
in  arranging  the  circumstances  of  childhood  as  he  has. 

Now  the  whole  of  life  is,  equally  with  the  years  of  child- 
hood, a  time  of  probation  and  trial ;  it  is  filled  up  with 
difficulties  and  obstacles,  and  sources  of  slight  disappoint- 
ment and  suffering,  for  the  very  purpose  of  trying  and  in- 
creasing our  moral  strength.  And  all  these  things  are,  or 
may  be,  sources  of  enjoyment.  They  will  be  sources  of 
enjoyment  if  we  take  the  right  view  of  them,  as  I  shall 
explain  more  fully  hereafter.  God  has  so  arranged  it,  that 
we  have,  in  passing  through  life,  a  specimen  of  almost  every 
sort  of  moral  difficulty  ;  and  every  moral  power  of  the  heart 
may  be  brought  into  active  exercise,  and  cherished  and 
strengthened  by  the  trial,  if  the  opportunity  is  rightly  im- 
proved. 

God  has  therefore  made  a  double  provision  for  the  moral 
growth  of  men.  First,  he  has  given  us  instruction  in  our 
duty  in  the  Bible ;  and  secondly,  he  has  given  us  opportu- 
nity to  practise  in  the  various  difficulties  and  duties  of  life. 
The  Bible  is  full  and  complete  as  a  book  of  directions. 
Human  life  is  full  and  complete  as  a  field  for  practice.  The 
best  parade  ground  for  drilling  and  disciplining  an  army 
would  not  be  a  smooth  and  level  plain,  but  an  irregular 
region,  diversified  with  hills  and  plains,  where  the  inexpe- 
rienced army  might  practise  every  evolution — now  passing 
a  defile,  now  ascending  an  acclivity,  now  constructing  and 
crossing  a  bridge.  So  human  life,  to  answer  the  purposes 
intended  as  a  field  for  moral  exercise,  must  have  a  variety 
of  difficulties,  to  enable  us  to  practise  every  virtue,  and  to 
bring  into  active  requisition  every  right  principle  of  heart. 

A  wealthy  man,  I  will  suppose,  engaged  in  commercial 
pursuits  in  a  great  city,  wished  to  prepare  his  son  to  manage 
his  business  when  he  should  be  old  enough  to  take  charge 
of  it.     He  accordingly  gave  him  a  thorough   commercial 


304  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

education  in  school ;  but  before  he  received  him  into  his 
partnership,  he  thought  it  would  be  necessary  to  give  him 
some  practical  knowledge  of  his  future  duties. 

"My  son,"  says  he  to  himself,  "is  now  theoretically 
acquainted  with  all  that  is  necessary,  but  he  wants  the 
readiness  and  the  firmness  and  the  confidence  of  practice. 
To  complete  his  education,  I  will  give  him  a  thorough  trial. 
I  will  fit  out  a  small  vessel,  and  let  him  take  charge  of  her 
cargo.  I  will  so  plan  the  voyage,  that  it  shall  embrace  an 
unusual  share  of  difficulty  and  trial ;  for  my  very  design  is 
to  give  him  practical  knowledge  and  skill,  which  come  only 
through  such  a  trial." 

He  accordingly  fits  out  his  ship.  He  thinks  very  little 
of  the  success  of  the  voyage  in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view, 
because  that  is  not  his  object.  He  rejects  one  port  of  des- 
tination, because  it  is  too  near ;  another,  because  the  passage 
to  it  is  short  and  direct ;  and  another,  because  the  disposal 
of  a  cargo  there  is  attended  with  no  difficultv.  He  at  last 
thinks  of  a  voyage  which  will  answer  his  design.  The 
passage  lies  through  a  stormy  sea.  Rocks  and  quicksands, 
and  perhaps  pirates,  fill  it  with  dangers.  The  port  at  which 
he  will  arrive  is  one  distinguished  by  the  intricacy  of  its 
government  regulations.  His  son  is  a  stranger  to  the  lan- 
guage of  the  country,  and  a  great  discretionary  power  will 
be  necessary  in  the  selection  of  a  return  cargo.  This,  says 
the  merchant,  is  exactly  the  place.  This  voyage  will  com- 
prehend more  difficulties  and  dangers  and  trials  than  any 
other,  and  will,  accordingly,  be  exactly  the  thing  for  my 
son 

Perhaps  you  may  say,  a  father  would  not  form  such  a 
design  as  this — he  would  not  expose  his  son  to  so  many 
difficulties  and  dangers.  I  know  he  might  not  go  as  far  as 
I  have  represented,  but  the  reason  why  he  would  not  would 
be,  because  he  might  be  afraid  that  some  of  these  dangers 
would  overpower  the  young  man  entirely.     He  would  not 


TRIAL  AND  DISCIPLINE.  305 

send  him  among  rocks  and  whirlpools,  for  instance,  for  the 
sake  of  getting  him  into  danger,  because  he  would  fear  that 
that  danger  might  result  in  death.  If,  however,  he  could 
be  sure  of  ultimate  safety — if,  for  example,  he  could,  as 
our  great  Father  in  heaven  can,  go  along  with  his  boy,  and, 
though  unseen  and  unheard,  keep  constantly  at  his  side  in 
every  danger,  with  power  to  bring  effectual  protection — if 
earthly  fathers  had  such  power  as  this,  there  would  be  a 
thousand  who  would  take  the  course  I  have  described. 
They  would  see  that  there  could  be  nothing  so  well  calcu- 
lated to  give  maturity  and  efficiency  to  the  character,  and  to 
prepare  the  young  man  for  persevering  fidelity  and  eminent 
success  in  his  future  business,  as  such  a  discipline  as  this. 

The  young  man  at  length  sets  sail.  He  understands  the 
object  of  his  father  in  planning  the  voyage,  and  he  goes  with 
a  cordial  desire  of  making  it  the  means  of  promoting  his 
improvement  as  far  as  possible.  Instead  of  being  sorry  that 
a  plan  embracing  so  many  difficulties  and  trials  had  been 
chosen  for  him,  he  rejoices  in  it.  He  certainly  would  rejoice 
in  it,  if  he  had  confidence  in  his  father's  protection.  When 
he  comes  into  the  stormy  ocean  through  which  he  has  to 
pass,  instead  of  murmuring  at  the  agitated  sea  and  gloomy 
sky,  he  stands  upon  the  deck,  riding  from  billow  to  billow, 
thinking  of  his  father's  presence  and  confiding  in  his  pro- 
tection, and  growing  in  moral  strength  and  fortitude  every 
hour.  The  gale  increases,  and  the  fury  of  the  storm  tries 
his  nerve  to  the  utmost ;  but  he  does  not  regret  its  violence, 
or  wish  to  quiet  a  single  surge.  He  knows  that  it  is  his 
trial,  and  he  rejoices  in  it;  and  when  through  his  increasing 
moral  strength  he  has  triumphed  over  its  power,  he  stands 
contemplating  its  fury  with  a  spirit  quiet  and  undisturbed. 
At  length  the  wind  lulls,  the  clouds  break  away,  and  the 
bright  rays  of  the  setting  sun  beam  upon  the  dripping  sails 
and  rigging.  The  waves  subside — a  steady  breeze  carries 
the  ship  forward  smoothly  on  her  course ;  and  he  who  has 


306  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

been  enduring  the  discipline  of  the  scene  feels  that  he  has 
made  progress — that  he  has  taken  one  step  towards  the 
accomplishment  of  the  object  of  his  voyage. 

Christian,  God  has  planned  just  such  a  voyage  for  you. 
He  has  filled  it  with  difficulties  and  trials,  that  you  may,  by 
means  of  them,  discipline  and  perfect  all  your  moral  pow- 
ers. When,  therefore,  the  dark,  gloomy  storm  rises  upon 
you,  and  night  shuts  in,  and  danger  presses,  and  your  heart 
feels  itself  burdened  with  a  load  which  it  can  scarcely  sus- 
tain, never  repine  at  it.  Think  how  near  is  your  protector. 
Confide  in  him,  and  remember  that  your  present  voyage  is 
one  of  trial. 

II.  THE   USES  OF   TRIAL. 

I  think  it  must  be  very  evident  to  all  who  have  read 
what  I  have  already  written  upon  this  subject,  that  it  is  of 
immense  advantage  to  moral  beings,  who  are  to  be  trained 
up  to  virtue  and  to  firmness  of  principle  and  of  character, 
that  they  should  not  only  receive  instruction  in  duty,  but 
that  they  should  be  thus  put  upon  trial,  to  acquire  by  actual 
experience  a  firm  and  steady  habit  of  correct  moral  action. 
This  can,  however,  be  made  more  clear,  if  I  analyze  more 
particularly  the  effects  of  such  trial  upon  the  heart. 

1 .  It  enables  us  to  know  ourselves.  People  never  know 
their  own  character  till  they  are  tried.  We  very  often 
severely  condemn  other  persons  for  doing  what,  if  we  had 
been  placed  in  their  circumstances,  we  should  have  done 
ourselves.  "Ye  know  not  what  spirit  ye  are  of,"  said  the 
Saviour.  Yery  few  persons  know  what  spirit  they  are  of, 
until  an  hour  of  temptation  brings  forth  the  latent  propensi- 
ties of  the  heart  into  action.  How  will  a  revengeful  spirit 
slumber  in  a  man's  bosom,  and  his  face  be  covered  with 
smiles  till  some  slight  insult  or  indignity  calls  it  forth,  and 
makes  him  at  once  the  suJjject  of  ungovernable  passion. 
Yes  ;  trial  reveals  to  us  our  true  character. 


TBfi 


TRIAL  AND  DISCIPLINE.  307 


(,  RSItl 

fc.  307 


It  brings  to  light  the  traits  of  Christian  character  which 
would  not  be  understood  at  all  without  it.  I  have  a  case 
in  mind  which  I  will  describe,  which  is  a  very  common 
case  precisely  as  I  describe  it  here ;  so  common,  that  very 
probably  a  great  many  of  my  readers  may  consider  it  as 
their  own. 

A  Christian  mother  had  an  only  child  whom  she  ten- 
derly loved.  The  mother  was  an  influential  member  of  the 
church,  and  was  ardently  interested  in  maintaining  a  high 
Christian  character,  and  in  studying,  faithfully  and  perse- 
veringly,  religious  truth.  She  became  much  interested  in 
the  view  which  the  Bible  presents  of  the  divine  sovereignty ; 
she  used  to  dwell  with  delight  upon  the  contemplation  of 
God's  unlimited  power  over  all ;  she  used  to  rejoice,  as  she 
thought,  in  his  entire  authority  over  her ;  she  took  pleasure 
in  reflecting  that  she  was  completely  in  his  hands,  soul  and 
body,  for  time  and  for  eternity,  and  she  wondered  that  any 
person  could  find  any  source  of  difficulty  or  embarrassment 
in  the  scripture  representations  on  this  subject. 

But  she  did  not  know  her  heart.  Her  beloved  child  be- 
came sick — and  she  stood  anxious  and  agitated  over  her 
pillow,  very  far  from  showing  a  cordial  willingness  that  God 
should  rule.  She  was  afraid,  very  much  afraid,  that  her 
child  would  die.  Instead  of  having  that  practical  belief  in 
the  divine  sovereignty,  and  that  cordial  confidence  in  God, 
which  would  have  given  her  in  this  trying  hour  a  calm  and 
happy  acquiescence  in  the  divine  will,  she  was  restless  and 
uneasy — her  soul  had  no  peace,  morning  or  night.  Her 
daughter  sunk,  by  a  progress  which  was  slow,  but  irresist- 
ible, to  the  grave,  and  for  weeks  that  mother  was  in  utter 
misery  because  she  could  not  find  it  in  her  heart  to  submit 
to  the  divine  will.  She  had  believed  in  the  universal  power 
of  God  as  a  theoretical  truth ;  she  had  seen  its  abstract 
beauty  ;  she  thought  she  rejoiced  in  God's  superintending 
power,  but  it  was  only  while  all  went  well  with  her :  as 


308  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

soon  as  God  began  to  exercise  that  power  which  she  had  so 
cordially  acknowledged  and  rejoiced  in,  in  a  way  which  was 
painful  to  her,  her  heart  rose  against  it  in  a  moment,  and 
would  not  submit.  The  trial  brought  out  to  her  view  her 
true  feelings  in  regard  to  the  absolute  and  unbounded  author- 
ity of  God.  Now,  there  is  a  great  deal  of  such  acquiescence 
in  God:s  dominion  in  the  world,  and  a  great  deal  of  it  is 
exposed  by  trial  every  day. 

The  case  of  the  steam-engine,  which  I  supposed  at  the 
commencement  of  this  chapter,  illustrates  this  part  of  my 
subject  exactly.  The  engineer  tried  the  boat  for  the  pur- 
pose of  proving  fully  the  character  and  operation  of  her  ma- 
chinery. Though  he  had  himself  actually  superintended  the 
construction  of  every  part  of  the  work,  he  could  not  fully 
know  the  character  and  the  power  of  the  machine  until  he 
had  tried  it.  T\  hile  the  experiment  was  in  progress,  he  was 
watching  every  movement  with  a  most  scrutinizing  eye ; 
he  discovered  faults,  or  deficiencies,  or  imperfections,  which 
nothing  but  actual  trial  could  have  revealed. 

It  is  on  exactly  the  same  principle  that  discipline  and 
trial  is  useful,  to  enable  us  fully  to  understand  our  charac- 
ters ;  and  in  order  to  avail  ourselves  of  this  advantage,  we 
should  watch  ourselves  most  carefully,  when  placed  in  any 
new  or  untried  situation,  to  see  how  our  moral  powers  are 
affected  by  it.  We  must  notice  every  imperfection  and  every 
deficiency  which  the  trial  brings  to  our  view. 

2.  Discipline  and  trial  are  the  means  of  improvement. 
Besides  giving  us  an  insight  into  our  characters,  they  will,  if 
properly  improved,  enable  us  to  advance  in  the  attainment 
of  every  excellence.  I  ought  however,  perhaps,  to  say  they 
may  be  made  the  means  of  improvement,  rather  than  that 
they  actually  will  be  so.  The  steam-boat  was  in  a  better 
condition  after  the  first  day's  trial  than  before  ;  but  it  was 
because  the  engineer  was  attentive  and  watchful,  doing  his 
utmost  to  avail  himself  of  every  opportunity  to  increase  the 


TRIAL  AND  DISCIPLINE.  309 

smoothness  and  the  power  of  her  motion.     So  with  human 
trials. 

See  yonder  child  going  to  school.  His  slate  is  under  his 
arm,  and  he  is  going  this  day  to  make  an  attempt  to  under- 
stand long  division.  He  is  young,  and  the  lesson,  though  it 
may  seem  simple  to  us,  is  difficult  to  him.  He  knows  what 
a  difficult  and  perplexing  task  is  before  him,  and  he  would, 
perhaps,  under  ordinary  circumstances,  shrink  from  it.  But 
he  is  a  Christian.  He  has  asked  forgiveness  for  his  past  sins 
in  the  name  of  Jesus  Christ,  and  is  endeavoring  to  live  in 
such  a  manner  as  to  please  his  Father  above.  He  knows 
that  God  might  easily  have  formed  his  mind  so  that  mathe- 
matical truths  and  processes  might  be  plain  to  him  at  once, 
and  that  he  has  not  done  so,  for  the  very  purpose  of  giving 
him  a  useful  discipline  by  the  trial  Which  the  effort  to  learn 
necessarily  brings. 

He  says  therefore  to  himself,  as  he  walks  alongs  to  his 
school-room,  "  My  lesson  to-day  is  not  only  to  do  this  sum, 
but  to  learn  to  be  patient  and  faithful  in  duty,  and  I  must 
learn  the  arithmetical  and  the  moral  lesson  together.  I  will 
try  to  do  it.  I  will  begin  my  work  looking  to  God  for  help, 
and  I  will  go  on  through  it,  if  I  can,  with  a  calm  and  quiet 
spirit,  so  as  to  learn  not  only  to  divide  a  number,  but  to  per- 
severe in  duty."  With  this  spirit  he  sits  down  to  his  work, 
and  watches  himself  narrowly,  that  he  may  check  every 
rising  of  impatience,  and  obtain,  by  means  of  the  very  diffi- 
culties that  now  try  him,  a  greater  self-command  than  he 
ever  before  possessed.  In  fact  he  takes  a  strong  interest  in 
the  very  difficulty,  because  he  is  interested  in  the  moral  ex- 
periment which  it  enables  him  to  make. 

Now,  when  such  a  spirit  as  this  is  cherished,  and  the 
mind  is  under  its  influence  in  all  the  difficulties  and  trials  of 
life,  how  rapidly  must  the  heart  advance  in  every  excellence. 
There  certainly  can  be  no  way  by  which  a  young  person  can 
so  effectually  acquire  a  patient  and  persevering  spirit,  as  by . 


310  THE   YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

meeting  real  difficulties  with  such  a  state  of  mind  as  I  have 
described.  They  who  have  been  trained  in  the  hard  school 
of  difficulty  and  trial,  almost  always  possess  a  firmness  of 
character  which  it  is  vain  to  look  for  elsewhere.  There 
must,  however,  be  effort  on  the  part  of  the  individual  to 
improve  under  the  trial,  or  he  will  grow  worse  instead  of 
better  by  it.  Learning  long  division  in  schools  is,  perhaps, 
as  often  a  means  of  promoting  an  impatient  and  fretful  spirit 
as  the  contrary.  It  is  the  state  of  heart  on  the  part  of  the 
individual  that  determines  which  effect  is  to  be  the  result. 
Some  men,  by  the  misfortunes  and  crosses  of  life,  are  made 
misanthropes ;  others,  through  the  same  disappointments 
and  sufferings,  are,  by  the  grace  of  God,  made  humble  and 
happy  Christians,  with  feelings  kindly  disposed  towards  their 
fellow-men,  and  calmly  submissive  towards  God. 

The  object,  then,  which  the  Creator  had  in  view  in  ar- 
ranging the  circumstances  of  probation  and  discipline  in 
which  we  are  placed,  is  two-fold  :  that  we  may  understand, 
and  that  we  may  improve  our  characters.  We  are  to  learn 
different  lessons  from  the  different  circumstances  and  situa- 
tions in  which  we  are  placed,  but  we  are  to  learn  some  lesson 
from  all.  God  might  easily  have  so  formed  the  earth,  and  so 
arranged  our  connection  with  it,  as  to  save  us  all  the  vicissi- 
tudes and  trials  and  changes  which  we  now  experience.  But 
he  has  made  this  world  a  state  of  discipline  and  trial  for  us, 
that  we  may  have  constant  opportunities  to  call  into  active 
exercise  every  Christian  grace.  The  future  world  is  the  home 
for  which  we  are  intended,  and  we  are  placed  on  trial  here, 
that  we  may  prepare  for  it ;  and  the  suffering  and  sorrow  which 
we  experience  on  the  way  are  small  evils,  compared  to  the  glo- 
rious results  which  we  may  hope  for  there.  But  I  must  come 
to  the  practical  directions  which  I  intended  to  present. 

1 .  Consider  every  thing  that  befalls  you  as  coming  in  the 
providence  of  God,  and  intended  as  a  part  of  the  system  of 
discipline  and  trial  through  which  you  are  to  pass.     This 


TRIAL  AND  DISCIPLINE.  311 

will  help  you  to  bear  every  thing  patiently.  An  irreligious 
man  is  on  a  journey  requiring  special  haste,  and  finds  him- 
self delayed  by  bad  travelling  or  stormy  weather,  until  a 
steam-boat,  which  he  had  intended  to  take,  has  sailed,  and 
left  him  behind.  He  spends  the  twenty-four  hours  during 
which  he  has  to  wait  for  the  next  boat,  in  fretting  and  wor- 
rying over  his  disappointment — in  useless  complaints  against 
the  driver  for  not  having  brought  him  on  more  rapidly — in 
wishing  that  the  weather  or  the  travelling  had  been  better, 
or  in  thinking  how  much  his  business  must  suffer  by  the 
delay.  The  Christian,  on  the  other  hand,  hears  the  intelli- 
gence that  the  boat  has  left  him,  with  a  quiet  spirit ;  and 
even  if  he  was  hastening  to  the  bedside  of  a  dying  child,  he 
would  spend  the  intervening  day  in  composure  and  peace, 
saying,  "  The  Lord  has  ordered  this.  It  is  to  try  me. 
Heavenly  Father,  give  me  grace  to  stand  the  trial." 

I  say,  the  Christian  would  feel  thus ;  I  should,  perhaps, 
have  said,  he  ought  to  feel  thus.  Christians  are  very  much 
accustomed  to  consider  all  the  great  trials  and  sufferings  of 
life  as  coming  from  God,  and  as  intended  to  try  them,  but 
they  fret  and  vex  themselves  unceasingly,  in  regard  to  the 
little  difficulties  which,  in  the  ordinary  walks  of  life,  they 
have  to  encounter — especially  in  what  is  connected  with  the 
misconduct  of  others.  You  lend  a  valuable  book,  and  it  is 
returned  to  you  spoiled :  the  prints  are  soiled  and  worn ;  the 
leaves  are  turned  down  in  some  places,  and  loosened  in  oth- 
ers ;  the  binding  is  defaced,  and  the  back  is  broken.  Now 
you  ought  not  to  stand  looking  at  your  spoiled  volume,  la- 
menting again  and  again  the  misfortune,  and  making  your- 
self miserable  for  hours  by  your  fretfulness  and  displeasure 
against  the  individual  who  was  its  cause.  He  was  indeed 
to  blame,  but  if  you  did  your  duty  in  lending  the  book,  as 
without  doubt  you  did,  you  are  in  no  sense  responsible,  and 
you  do  wrong  to  make  yourself  miserable  about  it.  Tho 
occurrence  comes  to  you  in  the  providence  of  God,  and  is 


312  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

intended  as  a  trial.  He  watches  vou  to  see  how  you  bear 
it.  If  you  meet  it  with  a  proper  spirit,  and  learn  the  lesson 
of  patience  and  forbearance  which  it  brings,  that  spoiled 
book  will  do  you  more  good  than  any  splendid  volume  crowd- 
ed with  prints,  adorned  with  gilded  binding,  and  preserved 
in  a  locked  cabinet  for  you  for  twenty  years. 

So  with  loss  of  every  kind,  whether  it  comes  in  the  form 
of  a  broken  piece  of  china  or  a  counterfeit  ten-dollar  bill,  or 
the  loss  of  your  whole  property  by  the  misfortunes  of  a  part- 
ner or  the  pressure  of  the  times.  No  matter  what  is  the 
magnitude  or  the  smallness  of  the  loss — no  matter  whether 
it  comes  from  the  culpable  negligence  or  fraud  of  another,  or 
more  directly  from  God,  through  the  medium  of  flood  or  fire, 
or  the  lightning  of  heaven ;  so  far  as  it  is  a  loss  affecting 
you,  it  comes  in  the  providence  of  God,  and  is  intended  as  a 
trial.  If  you  are  really  interested  in  what  ought  to  be  the 
great  business  of  life,  your  growth  in  grace,  you  will  find 
that  such  trials  will  help  you  to  understand  your  own  heart, 
and  to  train  it  up  to  a  proper  action  under  the  government 
of  God,  more  than  any  thing  besides. 

2.  Make  it  your  aim  to  be  continually  learning  the  les- 
sons which  God  by  these  various  trials  is  teaching  you. 
Every  day  is  a  day  of  discipline  and  trial.  Ask  yourself 
every  night,  then,  "  What  progress  have  I  made  to-day  ?" 
Suppose  the  engineer,  in  the  case  of  the  steam-boat  on  trial, 
to  which  I  have  several  times  alluded,  had  neglected  alto- 
gether the  operation  of  the  machinery  when  his  boat  was 
first  put  to  the  test.  Suppose  that  instead  of  examining 
minutely  and  carefully  the  structure  and  the  action  of  the 
parts,  with  a  view  to  removing  difficulties,  rectifying  defects, 
and  supplying  deficiencies,  he  had  been  seated  quietly  upon 
the  deck  enjoying  the  sail.  He  might  have  been  gazing  at 
the  scenery  of  the  shore,  or  in  vanity  and  self-complacency 
enjoying  the  admiration  which  he  imagined  those  who  stood 
upon  the  wharf  were  feeling  for  the  degree  of  success  which 


TRIAL  AND   DISCIPLINE.  313 

he  had  attained.  While  he  is  thus  neglecting  his  duty,  evils 
without  number,  and  fraught  with  incalculable  consequences, 
are  working  below.  The  defects  in  his  machinery  are  not 
discovered  and  not  remedied ;  its  weaknesses  remain  unob- 
served and  unrepaired;  and  if  at  last  there  should  be  in- 
trusted to  his  care  valuable  property,  nothing  can  reason- 
ably be  expected  but  its  destruction. 

Multitudes  of  men,  and  even  great  numbers  of  those  who 
call  themselves  Christians,  act  the  part  of  this  infatuated 
engineer.     God  tells  them  that  their  moral  powers  are  now 
on  trial.     He  commands  them  to  consider  it  their  business 
here  not  to  be  engrossed  in  the  objects  of  interest  which  sur- 
round them  as  they  pass  on  through  life,  nor  to  be  satisfied 
with  present  attainments  of  any  kind,  but  to  consider  them- 
selves as  sailing  now  in  troubled  waters  for  the  purpose  of 
trial  and  improvement ;  to  watch  themselves  with  constant 
self-examination,  and  with  honest  efforts  to  rectify  what  is 
wrong  and  to  supply  what  is  deficient.     He  requires  them 
to  consider  all  the  circumstances  and  occurrences  of  life  as 
coming  from  him,  and  as  arranged  with  express  reference  to 
the  attainment  of  these  objects.     Notwithstanding  all  this, 
however,  they  neglect  the  duty  altogether.     They  do  not 
watch  themselves.     They  do  not  habitually  and  practically 
regard  the  events  of  life  as  means  to  enable  them  to  under- 
stand  their  hearts,  to  strengthen,  by  constant  exercise,  moral 
principle,  and  to  grow  in  grace.     Instead  of  this,  they  are 
engaged  in  simply  endeavoring  to  secure  as  much  present 
good  as  they  can ;  and  they  see  no  good  in  any  trial,  and  get 
no  good  from  it.     When  they  are  sick,  they  spend  the  time 
in  longing  to  get  well.     When  they  are  disappointed,  they 
make  themselves  miserable  by  useless  lamentations.     Losses 
bring  endless  regrets,  and  injuries  impatience  and  anger,  and 
thus  half  of  life  is  spent  in  struggles  which  are  really  the 
vain  and  hopeless  struggles  of  a  weak  man  to  get  free  from 
the  authority  and  government  of  God. 

Y.  Christian.  14 


Q 


14  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 


I  have  now  completed  what  I  intended  to  present  on  the 
subject  of  probation ;  and  I  think  that  all  my  readers  will 
easily  see,  that  by  taking  such  a  view  of  life  as  this  subject 
presents  to  us,  the  whole   aspect   of  our  residence  in  this 
world  is  at  once  changed.     If  you  really  feel  what  I  have 
been  endeavoring  to  explain,  you  will  regard  yourselves  as 
strangers  and  pilgrims  here,  looking  continually  forward  to 
another  country  as  your  home.     The  thousand  trials  and 
troubles  of  life  will  lose  half  their  weight  by  your  regarding 
them  in  their  true  light,  that  is,  as  means  of  moral  disci- 
pline and  improvement.     You  must,  however,  make  a  con- 
stant effort  to  do  this.      Make  it  a  part  of  your  daily  self- 
examination  not  only  to  ascertain  what  is  the  state  of  your 
heart  at  the  time  of  retirement,  but  to  review  the  incidents 
of  the  day,  and  to  see  How  they  have  operated  upon  you 
as  means  of  moral  discipline.     See  what  traits  of  character 
those  incidents  have  brought  to  your  view,  and  what  effect 
they  have  had  in  making  you  worse  or  better  than  you  were 
in  the  morning.     The  little  events   and  circumstances  of 
every  day  must  have  a  very  important  influence  of  one  kind 
or  of  the  other.     If  you  neglect  this  influence,  it  will  all  go 
wrong.     If  you  attend  to  it,  it  may  go  well  and  happily 
with  you  wherever  you  may  be. 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  315 


CHAPTER   XI. 

PERSONAL   IMPROVEMENT. 

"  The  path  of  the  just  is  as  the  shining  light,  that  shinetn  more  and  more  unto 

the  perfect  day." 

The  chapters  which  the  reader  has  just  perused  are  on 
subjects  connected  with  the  improvement  of  the  character : 
that  is,  they  are  upon  the  means  by  which  this  improvement 
is  to  be  promoted.  Studying  the  Bible,  keeping  the  Sabbath, 
and  exposure  to  discipline,  are  all  intended  to  be  means  for 
the  promotion  of  a  moral  progress.  There  are  some  things, 
however,  which  I  wish  to  say  in  regard  to  the  character 
itself  as  it  goes  on  in  the  process  of  improvement.  Reader, 
do  you  wish  to  avail  yourself  of  the  opportunities  and  means 
I  have  described  ?  Do  you  wish  to  study  the  Bible,  remem- 
ber the  Sabbath,  and  improve  all  the  occurrences  of  life,  as 
the  means  of  promoting  your  progress  in  all  that  is  good  ? 
If  so,  look  now  with  me  a  little  while  into  your  character 
itself,  that  you  may  see  in  what  respect  it  needs  your  atten- 
tion, and  in  what  way  you  can  so  employ  the  means  I  have 
described  as  to  gam  the  fullest  benefit  from  them.  As  I 
think  that  every  young  Christian  ought  most  assiduously  to 
cultivate  his  moral,  and  also  his  intellectual  powers,  I  shall 
discuss  in  order  both  these  points. 

I.   MORAL  IMPROVEMENT. 

Every  young  Christian  will  find,  however  sincerely  and 
ardently  he  may  have  given  up  his  heart  to  God  and  com- 
menced a  life  of  piety,  that  a  vast  number  of  faults  remain 
to  be  corrected — faults  which  he  acquired  while  he  lived  in 
sin,  and  which  the  force  of  habit  has  fixed  upon  him.  Now, 
you  know  what  these  faults  are,  or  you  may  very  easily 
learn,  and  your  first  effort  should  be  to  correct  them. 


316  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

In  order  now  to  make  clear  the  course  which  I  think 
ought  to  be  taken  to  correct  such  faults,  I  will  suppose  a 
case,  and  bring  into  it  the  various  methods  which  may  be 
adopted  for  this  purpose ;  and  I  shall  write  the  account  with 
a  double  aspect — one  towards  parents,  with  the  design  of 
showing  them  what  sort  of  efforts  they  ought  to  make  to 
correct  the  faults  of  their  children,  and  the  other  towards 
the  young,  to  show  what  measures  they  should  adopt  to 
improve  themselves. 

First,  however,  I  will  mention  a  very  common,  but  a 
very  ineffectual  mode  of  attempting  to  correct  faults.  A 
father  sees  in  his  son  some  exhibition  of  childish  vanity, 
and  he  says  to  him  instantly,  at  the  very  time  of  the  occur- 
rence, "  You  are  actmg  in  a  very  foolish  manner.  You 
show  a  great  deal  of  vanity  and  self-conceit  by  such  con- 
duct ;  and  in  fact  I  have  observed  that  you  are  growing 
very  vain  for  some  months  past ;  I  don't  know  what  we 
shall  do  to  correct  it." 

The  poor  boy  hangs  his  head  and  looks  ashamed,  and  his 
father,  talking  about  it  a  few  minutes  longer  in  a  half-irri- 
tated  tone,  dismisses  and  forgets  the  subject.  The  boy  re- 
frains, perhaps,  from  that  particular  exhibition  of  vanity  for 
a  little  while,  and  that  is  probably  all  the  good  which  results 
from  the  reproof. 

Another  wiser  parent  sees  with  regret  the  rising  spirit 
of  self-conceit  in  his  son ;  and  instead  of  rushing  on  to  attack 
it  without  plan  or  design  at  the  first  momentary  impulse,  he 
resorts  to  a  very  different  course.  He  notices  several  cases — 
remembers  them — reflects  that  the  evil,  which  has  been 
forming  perhaps  for  years,  cannot  be  corrected  by  a  single 
abrupt  reproof — and  accordingly  forms  a  plan  for  a  protract- 
ed moral  discipline  in  the  case,  and  then  seeks  a  favorable 
opportunity  to  execute  it. 

One  day,  after  the  father  has  been  granting  some  un- 
usual   indulgence,  and   they   have   spent  the   day   happily 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  317 

together  in  some  plan  of  enjoyment,  and  are  riding  home 
slowly  in  a  pleasant  summer  evening,  he  thus  addresses 
his  son  : 

"  Well,  Samuel,  you  have  been  a  good  boy,  and  we  have 
had  a  pleasant  time.  Now,  I  am  going  to  give  you  some- 
thing to  do,  which,  if  you  do  it  right,  will  wind  up  the  day 
very  pleasantly." 

"  What  is  it  ?"  says  Samuel. 

"  1  am  not  certain  that  it  will  please  you,  but  you  may 
do  as  you  choose  about  undertaking  it.  It  will  not  be  pleas- 
ant at  first ;  the  enjoyment  will  come  afterwards." 

Samuel.  "  But  what  is  it,  father  ?  I  think  I  shall  like. 
to  do  it." 

Father.  "  Do  you  think  you  have  any  faults,  Samuel?" 

Samuel.  "  Yes,  sir  ;  I  know  I  have  a  great  many." 

Father..  "  Yes,  you  have  ;  and  all  boys  have.  Some 
wish  to  correct  them,  and  others  do  not.  Now,  I  have  sup- 
posed that  you  do  wish  to  correct  them,  and  I  had  thought 
of  describing  to  you  one  of  your  faults,  and  then  telling  you 
of  a  particular  thing  which  you  can  do  which  will  help  you 
to  correct  it.  But  then  it  will  not  be  very  pleasant  for  you 
to  sit  here  and  have  me  find  fault  with  you,  and  mention  a 
number  of  instances  in  which  you  have  done  wrong,  and 
particularize  all  the  little  circumstances  which  increased  the 
guilt ;  this,  I  say,  will  not  be  very  pleasant,  even  though 
you  know  that  my  design  is  not  to  blame  you,  but  to  help 
you  improve.  But  if  you  undertake  it,  and  after  a  little 
while  find  that  you  are  really  improving,  then  you  will  feel 
happier  for  the  effort.  Now,  I  wish  you  to  consider  both, 
and  tell  me  whether  you  wish  me  to  give  you  a  fault  to  cor- 
rect or  not." 

If  the  boy,  now,  has  been  under  a  kind  and  gentle,  but 
efficient  government,  he  will  almost  certainly  desire  to  have 
the  fault,  and  the  way  by  which  he  is  to  correct  it,  pointed 
out.     If  so,  the  father  may  proceed  as  follows  : 


318  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

"  The  fault  I  am  going  to  mention  now  is  vanity.  Now, 
it  is  right  for  you  to  desire  my  approbation.  It  is  right  for 
you  not  only  to  do  your  duty,  but  to  wish  that  others  should 
know  that  you  do  it.  I  think,  too,  it  is  right  for  you  to  take 
pleasure  in  reflecting  on  your  improvement,  as  you  go  on 
improving  from  year  to  year.  But  when  you  fancy  your 
improvement  to  be  greater  than  it  is,  or  imagine  that  yju 
have  excellences  which  you  possess  only  in  a  very  slight 
degree,  or  when  you  obtrude  some  trifling  honor  upon  the 
notice  of  strangers  for  the  sake  of  getting  their  admiration, 
you  exhibit  vanity.  Now,  did  you  know  that  you  had  this 
fault  ?" 

Samuel.  "  I  do  not  know  that  I  have  thought  of  it  par- 
ticularly.    I  suppose  though  that  I  have  it." 

Father.  "  Your  having  the  fault  now  need  not  discour- 
age you,  if  you  only  take  hold  of  it  in  earnest  and  correct  it. 
It  has  grown  up  with  you  insensibly  ;  in  fact,  almost  all 
children  fall  into  it.  I  presume  that  I  had  it  as  much  as 
you  have,  when  I  was  as  young.  Do  you  think  now,  that 
you  can  recollect  any  cases  in  which  you  have  shown 
vanity  ?" 

Samuel.  "  I  don't  know ;  perhaps  I  could  if  I  should 
have  a  little  time." 

Father.  "Well,  I  will  give  you  time  to  think,  and  if 
you  really  wish  to  correct  yourself  of  the  fault,  you  may 
think  of  all  the  cases  you  can,  and  tell  me  of  them.  If  you 
prefer  it,  you  may  write  the  list  and  show  it  to  me." 

Now,  if  the  subject  is  taken  up  in  tliis  spirit,  most  boys 
who  had  been  treated  on  these  principles  before,  would 
receive  the  communication  with  pleasure,  and  would  engage 
with  interest  in  the  work  of  exploring  the  heart.  And  such 
a  boy  will  succeed.  He  will  bring  a  list  of  instances,  not 
perhaps  fully  detailed,  but  alluded  to  distinctly  enough  to 
recall  them  to  mind.  His  list  might  be  perhaps  something 
as  follows  : 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  319 

"  Dear  Father — I  have  made  out  a  list  of  the  times  in 
which  I  was  vain,  and  I  now  send  it  to  you. 

"  1.  I  brought  out  my  writing-book  a  few  evenings  since, 
when  some  company  was  here,  in  hopes  they  would  ask  to 
see  it. 

"  2.  I  said  yesterday  at  table,  that  there  was  something 
in  the  lesson  which  none  of  the  boys  could  recite  until  it 
came  to  me,  and  I  recited  it.  % 

"3.  I  pretended  to  talk  Latin  with  George  when  walk- 
ing, thinking  that  you  and  the  other  gentlemen  would  over- 
hear it. 

"  I  suppose  I  could  think  of  many  other  cases  if  I  had 
time.  I  am  glad  you  told  me  of  the  fault,  for  I  think  it  a 
very  foolish  one,  and  I  wish  to  correct  it. 

"  Your  dutiful  son, 


(C 


Now,  let  me  ask  every  one  of  my  readers  who  has  any 
knowledge  of  human  nature,  whether,  even  if  the  effort  of 
the  father  to  correct  this  fault  should  stop  here,  a  most  pow- 
erful blow  would  not  have  been  struck.  Do  you  think  that 
a  boy  can  make  such  a  self-examination,  and  confess  freely 
his  faults  in  this  manner,  without  making  a  real  progress  in 
forsaking  them  ?  Can  he  as  easily,  after  this,  attempt  to 
display  his  accomplishments,  or  talk  of  his  exploits  ? 

The  process  ought  not  to  stop  here,  but  this  is  the  first 
step  ;  confession — full,  free,  and  particular  confession.  In 
the  first  chapter,  I  described  the  power  of  confession  to  restore 
peace  of  mind  after  it  is  lost  by  sin  ;  and  in  alluding  to  the 
subject  of  confession  again  here,  it  will  be  seen  that  I  look 
at  another  aspect  of  it,  its  tendency  to  promote  reformation. 
It  is  in  this  latter  respect  only  that  I  consider  it  now. 

The  first  step,  then,  which  any  of  you  are  to  take  in 
order  to  break  the  chains  of  any  sinful  habit  which  you  have 
formed,  is  to  confess  it  fully  and  freely.  That  single  act 
will  do  more  to  give  your  fault  its  death-blow,  than  almost 


320  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

any  thing  else  you  can  do.  If  you  are  a  child,  you  can  de- 
rive great  assistance  from  confessing  to  your  parents.  If  you 
shrink  from  talking  with  them  face  to  face  about  your  follies 
and  faults,  you  can  write.  Or  confess,  and  express  your 
determination  to  amend,  to  some  confidential  friend  of  your 
own  age  ;  but  above  all,  be  sure  to  confess  to  G  od  ;  lay  the 
whole  case  before  him  in  full  detail.  I  cannot  press  upon 
you  too  fully  the  necessity  of  being  distinct  and  definite,  and 
goi?ig  into  full  detail,  in  these  confessions. 

There  is  one  very  erroneous  impression  which  )~oung 
persons  receive  from  hearing  rpublic  prayer.  It  is  always, 
as  it  ought  to  be,  general  in  its  language,  both  of  confession 
and  request.  Take,  for  instance,  the  following  language  of 
the  prayer-book  of  the  Protestant  Episcopal  church,  so  admi- 
rably adapted  to  its  purpose  : 

"  "We  have  erred  and  strayed  from  thy  ways  like  lost 
sheep.  "We  have  followed  too  much  the  devices  and  desires 
of  our  own  hearts.  AYe  have  offended  against  thy  holy  laws. 
"We  have  left  undone  those  things  which  we  ought  to  have 
done  ;  and  we  have  done  those  things  which  we  ought  not 
to  have  done  ;    and  there  is  no  health  in  us." 

How  general  is  this  language.  It  is  so  with  our  Sav- 
iour's model  of  prayer  :  - "  Forgive  us  our  debts,  as  we  forgive 
those  who  are  indebted  to  us."  Public  prayer  ought  to  be 
somewhat  general  in  its  expressions,  for  it  is  the  united  voice 
often  of  thousands,  and  should  express  acknowledgments  and 
petitions  which  are  common  to  them  all. 

But  the  mistake  that  multitudes  fall  into  is,  that  when 
they  begin  to  pray  themselves,  they  take  public  prayer  as 
the  model  for  secret  supplication  ;  and  they  spend  their  sea- 
son of  retirement  in  repeating  the  same  general  supplications 
which  they  hear  from  the  pulpit  in  the  hour  of  public  wor- 
ship. But  this  is  a  very  great  error.  The  very  object  of 
secret  prayer  is  to  aflbrd  the  soul  an  opportunity  of  going 
minutely  into  its  own  particular  and  private  case.     There  is 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  321 

no  magic  in  solitude,  no  mysterious  influence  in  the  closet 
itself,  to  purify  and  sanctify  the  heart.  It  is  the  opportunity 
which  the  closet  affords  of  bringing  forward  the  individual 
case  in  all  its  particularity  and  detail,  which  gives  to  secret 
devotion  its  immense  moral  power.  The  general  and  com- 
prehensive language  which  is  adopted  in  public  prayer,  is 
thus  adopted  because  it  is  the  object  of  public  prayer  to  ex- 
press only  those  wants,  and  to  confess  those  sins  which  are 
common  to  all  who  join  in  it.  The  language  must  necessa- 
rily, therefore,  be  general.  But  it  is  always  the  intention  of 
those  who  use  it,  that  minute  detail  should  be  given  in  pri- 
vate supplications.  In  the  prayers  of  the  Episcopal  church, 
for  example,  the  evening  prayer  for  families  is  printed  thus  : 

"  We  come  before  thee  in  an  humble  sense 
wh^ma!^  of  our  unworthiness,  acknowledging  our  mani- 
short  pause,  that  fold  transgressions  of  thy  righteous  laws.*    But 

every   one     may  .  .  1 

confess  the  sins  O,  gracious  r  ather,  who  desirest  not  the  death 

that  da"1"168  °f  °^  a  suiner>  l°°k  uPon  us>  we  beseech  thee,  in 
mercy,  and  forgive  us  all  our  transgressions." 

Here  you  will  observe,  that  on  the  margin  it  is  suggested 
that  this  entering  into  detail  should  be  done  even  in  the 
family  worship.  How  much  more  when  the  individual  has 
retired  alone,  for  the  very  purpose  of  bringing  forward  the 
peculiar  circumstances  of  his  own  case. 

This  is  the  only  way  to  make  secret  prayer  interesting, 
as  well  as  profitable.  A  child,  just  before  retiring  to  rest, 
attempts  to  pray.  He  uses  substantially  the  expressions 
which  he  has  heard  in  the  public  service  :  "I  acknowledge 
that  I  am  a  great  sinner.  I  have  done  this  day  many  things 
which  are  wrong  ;  I  have  neglected  many  duties,  and  broken 
many  of  thy  commands."  Now,  how  easy  is  it  for  a  person 
to  say  all  this  with  apparent  fervor,  and  yet  have  present  to 
his  mind  while  saying  it  no  one  act  in  which  he  really  feels 
that  he  has  done  wrong,  and  consequently  no  distinct  mental 

14* 


322  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

feeling  that  he  is  guilty.  Our  confessions,  half  of  the  time, 
amount  to  nothing  more  than  a  general  acknowledgment  of 
the  doctrine  of  human  depravity.  "  I  humbly  confess  that  I 
have  been  a  great  sinner  this  day,"  says  a  Christian  at  his 
evening  prayer ;  and  while  he  says  it,  the  real  state  of  his 
mind  is,  "I  suppose  I  must  have  been  so;  all  men  are  sin- 
ners, and  I  know  I  am."  As  to  any  distinct  and  definite 
feeling  of  personal  guilt,  it  is  often  the  farthest  from  the  mind 
while  using  such  language. 

It  is  astonishing  how  easily  and  how  soon  we  become 
habituated  to  the  general  language  of  confession  so  as  to  use 
it  freely  without  any  sense  of  personal  guilt.  A  parent  will 
reprove  a  boy  for  a  fault,  and  the  boy  will,  as  the  father 
goes  over  the  details,  defend  and  excuse  himself  at  every  step. 
Here  he  Avill  lay  the  blame  upon  his  brother — there  he  will 
say  he  did  not  know  what  else  to  do — and  in  another  respect 
he  will  say  that  he  tried  to  do  as  well  as  he  could.  And  yet, 
after  he  has  finished  all  this,  he  will  say  gravely,  "  But  I  do 
not  pretend  to  excuse  myself.  I  know  I  have  done  wrong." 
I  have  had  such  cases  occur  continually  in  the  management 
of  the  young. 

But  do  not  forget  what  is  the  subject  of  this  chapter,  It 
is  the  means  of  correcting  faults  ;  and  as  the  first  means,  I 
am  describing  full  and  particular  confession  of  the  sins  you 
wish  to  avoid  in  future.  Before  I  go  on,  however,  I  wish  to 
say  one  thing  in  regard  to  the  effect  of  going  into  minute 
detail  in  prayer.  It  is  the  only  way  to  make  prayer  inter- 
esting. When  you  attempt  to  pray  at  night,  with  a  mind 
wearied  and  exhausted  with  the  labors  of  the  day,  you  find 
your  thoughts  wandering.  No  complaint  is  more  common 
than  this.  There  is  scarcely  any  question  which  is  asked  of 
a  pastor  more  frequently  than  this  :  "  How  shall  I  avoid  the 
sin  of  wandering  thoughts  in  prayer  V  It  would  be  asked, 
too,  much  oftener  than  it  is,  were  it  not  that  Christians 
shrink  from  acknowledging  to  their  religious  teachers  a  fault 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  323" 

which  seems  to  imply  their  want  of  interest  in  spiritual 
things.  Now  the  remedy,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  is,  coming 
to  particulars  in  your  prayers.  Have  no  long  formal  exor- 
diums. Abandon  the  common  phrases  of  general  confession 
and  request,  and  come  at  once  to  the  particular  circum- 
stances and  minute  wants  and  trials  of  the  day.  Describe 
not  only  particular  faults,  but  all  the  minute  attending  cir- 
cumstances. Feel  that  you  are  alone  ;  that  the  restraints  of 
publicity  are  removed  from  you ;  that  you  may  safely  aban- 
don the  phraseology  and  the  form  which  a  proper  respect  for 
the  customs  of  men  retains  hi  the  pulpit  and  at  the  family 
altar,  and  come  and  converse  with  your  great  Protector  as  a 
man  converses  with  his  friend  ;  and  remember,  that  if  you 
fasten  upon  one  word  which  you  have  spoken  with  an  im-  \ 
proper  spirit,  and  confess  your  guilt  in  that  one  sin,  mention- 
ing all  the  circumstances  which  attended  it,  and  exposing 
the  wicked  emotions  which  dictated  it,  you  make  more  truly 
a  confession  than  by  repeating  solemnly  the  best  expression 
of  the  doctrine  of  human  depravity  that  creed,  or  catechism, 
or  system  of  theology  ever  gave. 

But  to  return  to  the  modes  of  correcting  faults.  If  your 
fault  is  one  which  long  habit  has  riveted  very  closely  upon 
you,  I  would  recommend  that  you  confess  it  in  writing  ;  it 
?s  more  distinct,  and  what  you  put  upon  paper  you  impress 
very  strongly  upon  your  mind.  Suppose  when  evening 
comes,  in  reflecting  upon  the  events  of  the  day,  you  remem- 
ber an  act  of  unkindness  to  a  younger  brother.  Now,  sit 
down  and  write  a  full  description  of  it,  and  make  it  appear 
in  its  true  light.  Do  not  exaggerate  it,  nor  extenuate  it,  but 
paint  it  in  its  true  colors.  Express  your  sorrow,  if  you  feel 
any,  and  express  just  as  much  as  you  feel.  Be  honest.  Use 
no  cant  phrase  of  acknowledgment,  but  just  put  upon  paper 
your  actual  feelings  in  regard  to  the  transaction.  Now,  after 
you  have  done  this,  you  may,  if  you  please,  just  fold  up  the 
paper  and  put  it  into  the  fire ;  but  you  cannot  put  into  the 


324  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

fire  the  vivid  impression  of  your  guilt  which  this  mode  of 
confession  will  produce.  Or  you  may,  if  you  prefer,  preserve 
it  for  a  time,  that  you  may  read  it  again,  and  renew  the 
impression  before  you  destroy  it.  But  it  will  be  better  to 
destroy  it  at  last.  It  is  not  in  human  nature  to  write  its 
thoughts  in  such  a  case,  with  the  intention  of  preserving  the 
record,  without  being  secretly  influenced  by  the  probability 
that  the  description  will  sooner  or  later  be  seen. 

But  I  must  pass  to  the  second  step  in  the  progress  of 
removing  a  fault.  It  is  watchfulness.  Suppose  that  the 
father,  in  the  case  which  I  have  imagined  in  order  to  illus- 
trate this  subject,  should  say  to  his  son,  or  which  would  be 
better  still,  should  write  to  him  as  follows : 

"  My  dear  Son — I  received  your  account  of  the  instances 
in  which  you  have  shown  vanity.  I  am  very  glad  you  are 
disposed  to  correct  yourself  of  this  fault,  and  will  now  tell 
you  what  you  are  to  do  next. 

"  You  would  without  doubt,  if  you  had  had  time,  have 
thought  of  many  more  instances,  but  you  would  not  have 
thought  of  all ;  a  great  many  would  have  escaped  your 
notice.  You  show  vanity  many  times  when  you  do  not 
know  it  yourself.  When  we  are  habituated  to  doing  any 
thing  wrong,  we  become  blinded  by  it,  so  that  the  vainest 
people  in  the  world  scarcely  know  that  they  are  vain  at  all. 
Now,  the  next  step  you  are  to  take  is  to  cultivate  a  delicate 
moral  sensibility  on  this  subject,  so  as  to  know  clearly  what 
vanity  is,  and  always  to  notice  when  you  are  guilty  of  it. 
The  way  to  do  this  is  to  watch  yourself.  Notice  your  con- 
duct for  two  days,  and  whenever  you  detect  yourself  display- 
ing vanity  on  any  occasion,  go  and  make  a  memorandum  of 
it.  You  need  not  write  a  full  description  of  it,  for  you  would 
frequently  not  have  time ;  but  write  enough  to  remind  you 
of  it,  and  then  at  the  end  of  the  two  days  send  the  list  to  me^ 
In  the  meantime  I  vvill  observe  you,  and  if  I  notice  any 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  325 

0 

instances  of  this  fault  I  will  remember  them,  and  see  if  1 
recollect  any  which  you  have  not  marked  down. 

"  It  will  not  be  very  pleasant,  my  son,  to  watch  yourself 
thus  for  faults,  but  it  is  the  most  effectual  means  of  remov- 
ing them.  You  may,  however,  do  just  as  you  please  about 
adopting  this  plan.  If  you  adopt  it,  send  your  list  to  me  ;  if 
you  do  not,  you  need  not  say  any  thing  about  it. 

"  Your  affectionate  parent, 


Now  '  I   wish  my   young   readers   to    understand,  that 
though  I  have  described  fully  this  case,  partly  with  a  design 
to  show  to  parents  a  good  way  to  lead  their  children  to  vir- 
tue, yet  my  main  design  is  to  explain  to  the  young  a  course 
which  they  may  take   themselves  immediately  to   correct 
their  faults.     I  am  in  hopes  that  many  a  one  who  reads  this 
chapter  will  say  to  himself,  "  I  have  some  faults  which  I 
should  like  to  correct,  and  I  will  try  this  experiment."     I 
wish  you  would  try  the  experiment  ;   you  all  know  what 
your  faults  are.     One  can  remember  that  he  is  very  often 
undutiful  or  disrespectful  to  his  parents.     Another  is  aware 
that  she  is  not  always  kind  to  her  sister.     Another  is  irri- 
table— often  gets  in  a  passion.     Another  is  forward  and  talk- 
ative ;  her  friends  have  often  reproved  her.  but  she  has  never 
made  any  real  systematic  effort  to  reform.     Another  is  indo- 
lent— often  neglecting  known  duties  and  wasting  time.    Thus 
every  young  person  is  sure  to  have  some  evil  habit,  from 
which,  though  he  may  be  a  Christian,  he  is  not  fully  freed. 
Now  just  try  my  prescription.     Take  the  two  steps  which  I 
have  described  :  confess  fully  and  minutely  the  particular 
fault  winch  you  wish  first  to  correct,  for  it  is  best  to  attack 
one  enemy  at  a  time  ;   and  then  with  careful  watchfulness 
keep  a  record  of  your  subsequent  transgressions.     You  can- 
not do  this,  with  a  proper  spirit  of  dependence  on  God  and 
accountability  to  him,  without  breaking  the  chains  of  any 
fault  or  any  habit  which  may  now  be  domineering  over  you. 


326  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

The  efficacy  of  such  moral  treatment  in  these  moral  diseases 
is  far  more  certain  and  powerful  than  that  of  any  cordial  in 
restoring  the  fainting  powers.  I  hope,  therefore,  that  every 
young  person  who  reads  this  will  not  merely  express  a  cool 
approbation  of  these  plans,  but  will  resolutely  set  to  work 
in  examining  his  character,  and  in  trying  these  methods  of 
altering  and  improving  it. 

"Every  young  person?  And  why  not  those  who  are 
not  young?"  says  some  one.  "Why  cannot  the  old  correct 
their  faults  in  this  way  ?"  They  can,  but  they  seldom  will. 
I  recommend  it  exclusively  to  the  young,  not  because  it  is 
less  efficacious  with  others,  but  because  others  will  not  cor- 
dially try  it.  The  difficulty  which  prevents  middle-aged 
persons  going  on  as  rapidly  as  the  young  in  improvement  of 
every  kind,  is,  that  they  are  not  so  easily  induced  to  make 
the  effort.  It  is  a  mistake  to  suppose  that  it  is  easier  for  a 
child  to  reform  than  for  a  man,  if  the  same  efforts  were  made. 
A  child  is  told  of  his  faults ;  the  politeness  of  society  forbids 
mentioning  them  to  a  man.  A  child  is  encouraged  and  urged 
forward  in  efforts  to  improve  ;  the  man  is  solitary  in  his  res- 
olutions and  unaided  in  his  efforts.  A  child  is  willing  to  do 
any  thing.  Confession  is  not  so  humiliating  to  it ;  keeping 
a  catalogue  of  its  sins  is  not  so  shrunk  from.  If  the  man  of 
fifty  is  willing  to  do  what  the  boy  of  fifteen  does,  he  may 
improve  twice  as  fast.  Some  of  the  most  remarkable  cases 
of  rapid  alteration  and  improvement  of  character  which  I 
have  ever  known  have  been  in  the  decline  of  age. 

Let  me  say  therefore  respectfully  to  those  who  may  read 
this  book,  but  who  are  beyond  the  age  for  which  it  is  spe- 
cially intended,  that  we  all  have  faults  which  we  ought  to 
discover  and  attempt  to  mend.  They  affect  our  happiness. 
They  bring  us  down  lower  than  we  should  otherwise  stand 
in  the  estimation  of  others.  Thus  they  impede  our  influence 
and  usefulness.     If  we  would  now  explore  and  correct  these, 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  327 

taking  some  such  thorough-going  course  as  I  have  described, 
how  rapidly  we  should  at  once  rise  in  usefulness  and  happi- 
ness. Instead  of  this,  however,  we  listen  to  moral  and  relig- 
ious instruction  from  the  pulpit,  to  admire  the  form  of  it? 
expression,  or  perhaps  to  fix  the  general  principles  in  our 
hearts ;  but  the  business  of  exploring  thoroughly  our  own 
characters  to  ascertain  their  real  condition,  and  going  ear- 
nestly to  work  upon  all  the  detail  of  actual  and  minute 
repair — pulling  down  hi  this  place,  building  up  in  that,  and 
altering  in  the  other — ah,  this  is  a  business  to  which,  in 
mature  life,  we  pay  but  little  attention. 

But  I  must  go  on  with  my  account  of  the  means  of  cor- 
recting faults,  for  I  have  one  more  expedient  to  describe. 
I  have  been  digressing  a  little  to  urge  you  to  apply  practi- 
cally what  I  say  to  yourselves,  and  resolve  to  try  the  experi- 
ment. Tins  one  more  expedient  relates  to  your  exposure  to 
temptation.  In  regard  to  temptation  you  have,  I  think, 
two  duties,  namely,  to  avoid  all  great  temptations,  and  to 
meet  those  daily  occurring  with  a  determination,  by  God's 
blessing,  to  conquer  them. 

A  boy  knows,  I  will  imagine,  that  he  has  an  irritable 
spirit ;  he  wishes  to  cure  himself  of  it.  I  will  suppose  that 
he  has  taken  the  two  steps  I  have  already  described,  and 
now  as  the  morning  comes,  and  he  is  about  to  go  forth  to 
the  exposures  of  the  day,  we  may  suppose  him  to  hold  the 
following  conversation  with  his  father,  or  some  other  friend. 

Boy.  "  I  have  made  a  great  many  resolutions,  and  I 
am  really  desirous  of  not  becoming  angry  and  impatient  to- 
day.    But  I  always  do,  and  I  am  afraid  I  always  shall." 

Friend.  "  Do  you  always  ?  Do  you  get  angry  every 
day?" 

Boy.  "  I  do  almost  always  ;  whenever  any  thing  hap- 
pens to  vex  me." 

Friend.  "What  are  the  most  common  things  that 
happen  to  vex  you  ?" 


328  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

"  Why,  I  almost  always  get  angry  playing  marbles. 
George  doesn't  play  fair,  and  I  get  angry  with  him,  and  he 
gets  angry  with  me." 

"  Do  you  always  get  angry  playing  marbles  ?" 

"  We  do  very  often." 

"  Then  I  advise  you  to  avoid  playing  marbles  altogether. 
1  know  you  like  to  play,  but  if  you  find  it  affords  too  great 
a*  temptation  for  you  to  resist,  you  must  abandon  it,  or  you 
will  not  cure  yourself  of  your  fault.  What  other  tempta- 
tions do  you  have  ?" 

"  Why,  I  get  put  out  with  my  sums  at  school." 

"  Get  put  out  with  your  sums  !  What  do  you  mean  by 
that  ?" 

"  Why,  I  get  impatient  and  vexed  because  I  cannot  do 
them,  and  then  I  get  angry  with  them." 

"  What,  with  the  sums  ?" 

"  Yes  ;  with  the  sums,  and  the  book,  and  the  slate,  and 
every  thing  else  ;  I  know  it  is  very  foolish  and  wicked." 

"Well,  now  I  advise  you  to  take  your  slate  and  pencil 
to-day,  and  find  some  difficult  sum,  such  as  you  have  often 
been  angry  with,  and  sit  down  calmly  to  work,  and  see  if 
you  cannot  go  through  it,  and  yet  not  feel  vexed  and  angry 
should  you  fail  of  doing-  it  aright.  Think  before  you  begin, 
how  sad  it  is  for  you  to  be  under  the  control  of  wicked  pas- 
sions, and  ask  God  to  help  you,  and  then  go  on  expecting 
to  find  difficulty,  and  endeavoring  to  meet  it  with  a  calm 
and  patient  spirit.  If  you  succeed  in  this,  you  will  really 
improve  while  you  do  it.  By  gaining  one  victory  over  your- 
self you  will  make  another  more  easy. 

"  Which  do  you  think  is  the  greatest  temptation  for  you, 
to  play  marbles  or  to  do  sums  ?" 

"  Why,  I  think  playing  marbles,  because  the  boys  don't 
play  fair." 

"Well;  now  I  wish  you  to  practise  the  easiest  lesson 
first.      Conquer  yourself  in  your    arithmetical   temptation 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  329 

first,  and  then  perhaps  you  can  encounter  the  other.  And 
I  wish  you  would  watch  yourself  to-day,  and  observe  what 
are  the  trials  which  are  too  great  for  you  to  bear,  and  avoid 
them  until  you  have  acquired  more  moral  strength.  But 
do  not  flee  from  any  temptation  which  you  think  you  can 
resist.  By  meeting  and  resisting  it,  you  will  advance  in 
your  course." 

Now  this  is  the  case  in  the  correction  of  all  faults.  The 
temptations  which  you  think  you  will  not  be  successful  in 
resisting,  you  oudrt  to  avoid,  no  matter  at  what  sacrifice ; 
and  though  you  ought  not  to  seek  the  trial  of  your  strength, 
vet  where  Providence  calls  you  to  meet  it,  go  forward  to 
the  effort  which  it  requires  with  confidence  in  his  help,  and 
with  resolution  to  do  your  duty.  If  you  have  the  right 
spirit,  he  will  help  you  ;  and  virtuous  principle  will  grow 
by  an  exposure  which  does  not  overpower  it. 

I  have  however  spoken  more  fully  on  this  subject  in  the 
chapter  on  discipline  and  trial,  where  the  general  effect  of 
such  discipline  as  we  have  here  to  pass  through  was  pointed 
out.  I  have  here  only  alluded  to  it  again,  to  show  how 
important  an  auxiliary  it  is  in  the  correction  of  particular 
faults. 

But  I  must  pass  to  the  consideration  of  another  part  of 
my  subject,  for  the  correction  of  absolute  faults  of  character 
is  by  no  means  the  only,  .or  even  the  most  important  object 
of  attention  in  Christian  progress ._JCiie-*pi«^^of  piety, 
which  is  the  mainspring  of  all  these  efforts  for  the  improve- 
ment of  the  character,  is  to  be  directly  cultivated.  The 
command,  "grow  in  grace,"  seems  to  refer  to  this  progress 
in  the  spirit  of  piety  itself.  The  correction  of  external 
faults,  and  the  improvement  of  the  character  in  all  those 
aspects  hi  which  intercourse  between  man  and  man  is  con- 
cerned, will  result  from  it.  But  it  is  itself  something  dif- 
ferent from  these  external  changes.     To  grow  in  grace,  is 


330  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

to  have  the  heart  itself  so  changed  that  sin  shall  become 
more  and  more  hateful,  the  promotion  of  the  general  happi- 
ness an  increasing  object  of  interest  and  desire,  the  soul 
more  and  more  closely  united  to  God,  so  as  to  receive  all 
its  happiness  from  him. 

Tins  now  is  a  change  in  the  affections  of  the  heart. 
Improvement  hi  conduct  will  result  from  it.  but  it  is  in  itself 
essentially  different  from  right  conduct.  It  is  the  fountain 
from  which  good  actions  are  the  streams.  I  wish  therefore 
that  every  one  of  my  readers  would  now  turn  his  attention 
to  this  subject,  and  inquire  with  me,  by  what  means  he 
may  grow  most  rapidly  in  attachment  to  the  Saviour,  and 
in  hatred  of  sin.  A  very  unwise  and  ineffectual  kind  of 
effort  is  often  made,  which  I  shall  first  describe,  and  then 
proceed  to  describe  the  means  which  may  be  successful  in 
drawing  the  heart  closer  and  closer  to  Jehovah. 

To  illustrate  the  unavailing  efforts  which  are  sometimes 
made  to  awaken  hi  the  heart  a  deeper  and  deeper  interest 
in  piety,  I  will  suppose  a  case,  and  it  is  a  case  which  is 
exceedingly  common.  A  professing  Christian — and,  to  make 
the  case  more  definite,  I  will  suppose  the  individual  to  be 
the  mother  of  a  family — feels  that  she  does  not  love  God  as 
she  ought,  and  she  is  consequently  unhappy.  She  is  aware 
that  her  affections  are  placed  too  strongly,  perhaps,  upon 
her  family — her  children.  She  knows  that  she  is  a  wan- 
derer from  her  Saviour,  and  feels  at  all  times,  when  she 
thinks  of  religious  duty,  a  settled  uneasiness  which  mars 
many  of  her  enjoyments,  and  often  saddens  her  heart.  Now, 
what  does  she  do  to  remedy  this  difficulty  ?  Why,  when 
the  week  is  passed,  and  her  hour  of  prayer  on  the  Sabbath 
has  arrived,  she  thinks  a  little  of  her  cold  and  wayward 
condition,  and  tries,  by  direct  effort,  to  arouse  hi  her  heart 
feelings  of  penitence  and  love.  But  she  tries  in  vain.  I 
ncknowledge  that  she  is  very  guilty  in  being  in  such  a  state, 
but  if  she  is  so,  her  direct  efforts  to  feel  will  be  vain.     She 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  331 

will  have,  for  an  hour,  a  weary  and  melancholy  struggle— 
the  Sabbath  will  pass  away,  rendered  gloomy  by  her  con- 
dition and  her  reflections — and  Monday  morning  will  come 
with    its  worldly  cares   and  enjoyments  to   drift  her  still 
further  away  from  God  and  from  happiness. 

A  man  of  business,  engrossed  in  the  management  of  his 
prosperous  affairs,  knows  that  he  is  not  living  to  God.  And 
yet  he  is  a  member  of  a  Christian  church ;  he  has  solemnly 
consecrated  himself  to  the  Saviour ;  and  when  he  thinks  of 
it,  he  really  wishes  that  his  heart  was  in  a  different  state. 
The  world  however  holds  him  from  day  to  day,  and  the 
only  thing  which  he  does  to  save  himself  from  wandering 
to  a  returnless  distance  from  God,  is  to  strive  a  little,  morn- 
ing and  evening,  at  his  short  period  of  secret  devotion,  to 
feel  his  sins.  He  makes  direct  effort  to  urge  his  heart  to 
gratitude.  He  perhaps  kneels  before  the  throne  of  God, 
and  knowing  how  little  love  for  God  he  really  feels,  he 
strives  to  bring  his  heart  to  exercise  more.  He  is  trying  to 
control  his  affections  by  direct  effort — and  he  probably  fails. 
He  is  striving  in  vain.  He  soon  becomes  discouraged,  and 
yields  himself  again  to  the  current  which  is  bearing  him 
away  from  holiness  and  peace. 

I  once  knew  a  young  man — and  while  I  describe  his 
case,  it  is  possible  that  there  may  be  many  of  the  readers  of 
this  chapter  who  will  say  his  case  is  like  theirs — who  had 
a  faint  hope  that  he  was  a  Christian ;  but  his  penitence  was 
in  his  opinion  so  feeble  and  heartless,  his  love  to  God  was 
so  cold,  and  his  spark  of  grace,  if  there  was  any  in  his 
heart,  was  so  faint  and  languishing,  that  he  scarcely  dared 
to  hope.  He  did  not  therefore  take  the  stand,  or  perform 
the  duties  of  a  Christian.  He  thought  he  must  make  more 
progress  himself  in  piety  before  he  endeavored  to  do  any 
good  to  others  ;  he  was  accordingly  attempting  to  make  this 
progress;    he  struggled  with   his   own   heart,   to   awaken 


332  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

stronger  love  and  deeper  penitence  there,  but  it  was  a  sad 
and  almost  fruitless  struggle ;  he  became  dejected  and 
desponding  ;  he  thought  his  heart  was  still  cold  and  hard- 
ened in  sin,  and  that  religious  feeling  would  not  come  at  his 
bidding  ;  and  he  continued  for  a  long  time  unhappy  himself 
and  useless  to  others. 

The  principle  which  I  have  been  designing  to  illustrate 
by  these  cases  is,  that  the  best  way  to  improve  or  alter  the 
affections  of  the  heart,  is  not  by  direct  efforts,  upon  the 
heart  itself.  The  degree  of  power  which  man  has  directly 
over  the  affections  of  the  heart  is  very  limited.  A  mere 
theorist  will  say  he  must  have  entire  control  over  them,  or 
they  cannot  be  blameworthy  or  praiseworthy.  But  no  one 
but  the  mere  theorist  will  say  this.  A  benevolent  man, 
during  an  inclement  season,  sends  fuel  to  a  destitute  and 
suffering  family,  and  perhaps  goes  himself  to  visit  and  to 
cheer  the  sick  one  there.  Does  not  he  take  a  great  pleas- 
ure in  thus  relieving  misery,  and  is  not  this  benevolent  feel- 
ing praiseworthy  ?  And  yet  it  is  not  under  his  direct  con- 
trol, he  cannot  possibly  help  taking  pleasure  in  relieving 
suffering.  Suppose  I  were  to  say  to  him,  "  Sir,  just  to  try 
a  philosophical  experiment,  will  you  now  alter  your  heart, 
so  as  to  be  glad  to  know  that  people  are  suffering.  I  will 
tell  you  the  facts  about  a  child  that  perished  with  the 
cold  ;  and  while  I  do  it,  will  you  so  alter  your  heart — which 
must  be  entirely  under  your  control,  or  else  its  emotions 
cannot  be  praiseworthy  or  blameworthy — as  to  delight  in 
that  cruel  suffering?"  How  absurd  would  this  be.  The 
man  must  be  pained  to  hear  of  sufferings  which  he  cannot 
help ;  and  yet  sympathy  with  the  sorrows  of  others  is 
praiseworthy. 

Again,  sister  and  sister  have  become  alienated  from  each 
other.  The  feeling  which  was  at  first  coldness  has  become 
dislike  ;  and  now  they  whom  God  has  placed  so  near  to- 
gether are  satisfied  to  be  sundered  in  heart.     Suppose  the 


PERSONAL   IMPROVEMENT,  333 

parent  were  to  say  to  them,  "  I  know  you  can  love  each 
other,  and  you  ought  to  love  each  other,  and  I  command 
you  immediately  to  do  it."  They  may  fear  parental  dis- 
pleasure— they  may  know  that  they  should  be  happier  if 
they  were  united  in  heart ;  but  will  affection  come  at  once 
at  their  call  ? 

The  entire  free  agency  of  man,  by  which  is  meant  his 
freedohT  from  all  external  restraint  in  his  conduct,  can  hardly 
be  asserted  too  frequently,  or  kept  too  distinctly  in  the  view 
of  every  human  being.  There  is  such  a  thing,  however,  as 
presenting  this  subject  in  such  a  light  as  to  lead  the  mind 
to  the  erroneous  idea  that  all  the  affections  of  the  heart  are 
in  the  same  sense  under  the  control  of  the  will  as  the  mo- 
tions of  the  body  are.  I  do  not  mean,  that  any  intelligent 
writer  or  preacher  will  advocate  such  a  view,  but  only  that 
in  expressing  his  belief  in  human  freedom  in  sweeping  and 
unqualified  terms,  he  may  unintentionally  convey  the  im- 
pression. There  is  unquestionably  a  very  essential  difference 
between  a  man's  freedom  of  feeling  and  his  freedom  of  act- 
ing. A  man  may  be  induced  to  act  by  a  great  variety  of 
means — a  motive  of  any  kind,  if  strong  enough,  will  be  suf- 
ficient. Suppose,  for  instance,  a  sea-captain  wishes  to  induce 
a  man  to  leap  off'  from  the  deck  of  his  ship  into  the  sea ;  he 
may  attempt  in  a  great  many  ways  to  obtain  his  object. 
He  may  command  him  to  do  it,  and  threaten  punishment  if 
he  disobeys  ;  he  may  try  to  hire  him  to  do  it ;  he  may  show 
the  sailor  that  his  little  son  has  fallen  overboard,  and  thus 
induce  the  parent  to  risk  his  life  that  he  may  save  that  of 
his  child.  He  may  thus  in  various  ways  appeal  to  very  dif- 
ferent feelings  of  the  human  heart — love  of  money,  fear,  or 
parental  affection — and  if  by  either  of  these,  the  volition,  as 
metaphysicians  term  it,  that  is,  the  determination,  can  be 
formed,  the  man  goes  overboard  in  a  moment.  He  can  do 
any  thing  which,  from  any  motive  whatever,  he  resolves 
to  do. 


334  THE  YOUKG  CHRISTIAN. 

In  regard,  however,  to  the  feelings  of  the  heart,  it  is  far 
different.  Though  man  is  equally  a  free  agent  in  regard  to 
these,  it  is  in  quite  a  different  way  ;  that  is,  the  feelings  of 
the  heart  are  not  to  be  managed  and  controlled  by  simple 
determinations,  as  the  external  conduct  may  be.  Suppose, 
for  instance,  the  captain  wished  that  sailor  to  be  grateful  for 
some  favor  he  had  received,  and  of  which  he  had  been  en- 
tirely regardless  ;  and  suppose  he  should  command  him  to 
be  grateful,  and  threaten  him  with  some  punishment  if  he 
should  refuse  ;  or  suppose  he  should  endeavor  to  hire  him  to 
be  grateful,  or  should  try  to  persuade  him  to  be  thankful  for 
past  favors  in  order  to  get  more.  It  would  be  absurd. 
Gratitude,  like  any  other  feeling  of  the  heart,  though  it  is  of 
a  moral  nature,  and  though  man  is  perfectly  free  in  exer- 
cising it,  will  not  always  come  whenever  one  determines  to 
bring  it.  /The  external  conduct  is  thus  controlled  by  the 
determinations  of  the  mind,  on  whatever  motives  those  de- 
terminations may  be  founded ;  but  the  feelings  and  affections 
of  the  heart  are  under  no  such  direct  control. 

There  is  certainly,  for  all  practical  purposes,  a  great  dis- 
tinction between  the  heart  and  the  conduct — between  the 
moral  condition  of  the  soul  and  those  specif  c  ads  which 
arise  from  it.  Two  children,  a  dutiful  and  a  disobedient  one, 
are  walking  together  in  a  beautiful  garden,  and  suddenly  the 
gardener  tells  them  that  their  father  does  not  wish  them  to 
walk  there.  Now,  how  different  will  be  the  effect  which 
this  annunciation  will  make  upon  them.  The  one  will  im- 
mediately obey,  leaving  with  alacrity  the  place  which  his 
father  did  not  wish  him  to  pass.  The  other  will  linger  and 
make  excuses,  or  perhaps  altogether  disobey.  Just  before 
they  received  the  communication  they  were  perhaps  not 
thinking  of  their  father  at  all ;  but  though  their  minds  were 
acting  on  other  subjects,  they  possessed  distinct  and  opposite 
characters  as  sons — characters  which  rendered  it  probable 
that  one  would  comply  with  his  father's  wishes  as  soon  as 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  336 

those  wishes  should  be  known,  and  that  the  other  would 
not.  So  in  all  other  cases  ;  a  dishonest  man  is  dishonest  in 
character  when  he  is  not  actually  stealing,  and  a  humble 
and  devoted  Christian  will  have  his  heart  in  a  right  state 
even  when  he  is  entirely  engrossed  in  some  intellectual  pur- 
suit, or  involved  in  the  perplexities  of  business. 

_Iam  aware,  that  among  metaphysical  philosophers,  there 
is  a  controversy  on  the  question  whether  all  which  is  of  a 
moral  nature,  that  is,  which  is  blameworthy  or  praiseworthy, 
may  not  be  shown  to  be  specific,  voluntary  acts  of  the  moral 
being.  Into  tins  question  I  do  not  intend  to  enter  at  all; 
for  if  what  is  commonly  called  character,  in  contradistinc- 
tion from  cojiduct,  may  be  resolved  into  voluntary  acts,  it  is 
certainly  to  be  done  only  by  a_nice  metaphysical  analysis, 
which  common  Christians  cannot  be  expected  to  follow. 

To  illustrate  the  nature  of  this  subject,  that  is,  the  dis- 
tinction, for  all  practical  purposes,  between  character  and 
conduct,  I  must  give  the  following  narrative,  which  I  take 
from  Hume,  with  some  alterations  of  form  to  make  it  more 
intelligible  in  this  connection. 

In  early  periods  of  the  English  history,  Richard  duke  of 
Gloucester,  an  intriguing  and  ambitious  man,  formed  the 
design  of  usurping  the  throne.  The  former  king  had  left 
several  children,  who  were  the  proper  heirs  to  the  crown. 
They  were  however  young,  and  Richard  gained  possession 
of  the  government,  ostensibly  that  he  might  manage  it  until 
they  were  of  age,  when  he  was  to  surrender  it  to  them  again, 
but  really  with  the  design  of  putting  them  and  all  their  in- 
fluential friends  to  death,  and  thus  usurping  the  throne. 

One  of  the  most  powerful  and  faithful  friends  of  the 
young  princes  was  Lord  Hastings,  and  the  following  is  the 
account  which  Hume  gives  of  the  manner  in  which  he  'W  as 
murdered  by  Richard. 

"  The  duke  of  Gloucester,  knowing  the  importance  oi 


336  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

gaining  Lord  Hastings,  sounded  at  a  distance  his  sentiments 
by  means  of  a  lawyer  who  lived  in  great  intimacy  with  that 
nobleman  ;  but  found  him  impregnable  in  his  allegiance  and 
fidelity  to  the  children  of  Edward,  who  had  ever  honored 
him  with  his  friendship.  He  saw,  therefore,  that  there  were 
no  longer  any  measures  to  be  kept  with  him  ;  and  he  deter- 
mined to  ruin  utterly  the  man  whom  he  despaired  of  engag- 
ing to  concur  in  his  usurpation.  Accordingly,  at  a  certain 
day,  he  summoned  a  council  in  the  Tower,  whither  Lord 
Hastings,  suspecting  no  design  against  him,  repaired  without 
hesitation.  The  duke  of  Gloucester  was  capable  of  commit- 
ting the  most  bloody  and  treacherous  murders  with  the 
utmost  coolness  and  indifference.  On  taking  his  place  at 
the  council-table,  he  appeared  in  the  easiest  and  most  jovial 
humor  imaginable  ;  he  seemed  to  indulge  himself  in  familiar 
conversation  with  the  counsellors  before  they  should  enter 
on  business  ;  and  having  paid  some  compliments  to  one  of 
them  on  the  good  and  early  strawberries  which  he  raised  in 
his  garden,  he  begged  the  favor  of  having  a  dish  of  them.  A 
servant  was  immediately  despatched  to  bring  them  to  him. 
Richard  then  left  the  council,  as  if  called  away  by  some 
other  business ;  but  soon  after  returning,  with  an  angry  and 
inflamed  countenance  he  asked  them, 

"  '  What  punishment  do  those  deserve  that  have  plotted 
against  my  life,  who  am  so  nearly  related  to  the  king,  and 
am  intrusted  with  the  administration  of  government  ?'  Hast- 
ings replied,  that  they  merited  the  punishment  of  traitors. 
'  These  traitors,'  then  cried  the  protector,  '  are  the  sorceress 
my  brother's  wife,  and  Jane  Shore  his  mistress,  with  others 
their  associates  :  see  to  what  a  condition  they  have  reduced 
me  by  their  incantations  and  witchcraft.'  As  he  said  this, 
he  laid  bare  his  arm,  all  shrivelled  and  decayed ;  but  the 
counsellors,  who  knew  that  this  infirmity  had  attended  him 
from  his  birth,  looked  on  each  other  with  amazement ;  Lord 
Hastings  began  to  be  alarmed. 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  337 

"  '  Certainly,  my  lord,'  said  he,  '  if  they  be  guilty  of  these 
crimes  they  deserve  the  severest  punishment.' 

"  '  And  do  you  reply  to  me,'  exclaimed  Richard,  '  with 
your  ifs  and  your  ands  ?  You  are  the  chief  abettor  of  that 
witch  Shore.  You  are  yourself  a  traitor ;  and  by  St.  Paul 
I  will  not  dine  before  your  head  be  brought  me.' 

1 '  He  struck  the  table  with  his  hand ;  armed  men  rushed 
in  at  the  signal ;  the  counsellors  were  thrown  into  the  ut- 
most consternation  ;  and  one  of  the  guards,  as  if  by  accident 
or  a  mistake,  aimed  a  blow  with  a  pole-axe  at  one  of  the 
lords  named  Stanley,  who,  aware  of  the  danger,  slunk  under 
the  table  ;  and  though  he  saved  his  life,  received  a  severe 
wound  in  the  head  in  Richard's  presence.  Hastings  was 
seized,  was  hurried  away,  and  instantly  beheaded  on  a  tim- 
ber log  which  lay  in  the  court  of  the  Tower.  Two  hours 
after,  a  proclamation,  so  well  penned  and  fairly  written  that 
it  must  have  been  prepared  before,  was  read  to  the  citizens 
of  London,  enumerating  his  offences,  and  apologizing  to  them, 
from  the  suddenness  of  the  discovery,  for  the  sudden  execu- 
tion of  that  nobleman,  who  was  very  popular  among  them." 

After  this  act  of  violence,  Richard  went  forward  with  his 
plans  until  he  attained  complete  ultimate  success.  He  caused 
the  unhappy  young  princes  whose  claims  were  between  him 
and  the  throne,  to  be  confined  in  the  Tower,  a  famous  castle 
and  prison  on  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  in  the  lower  part  of 
London.  He  then  sent  orders  to  the  constable  of  the  Tower 
to  put  his  innocent  and  helpless  victims  to  death.  The  offi- 
cer declined  performing  so  infamous  an  act.  He  then  ordered 
the  constable  to  give  up  for  one  night  the  command  of  the 
Tower  to  another  man.  He  did  so,  and  the  duke  sent  Sir 
James  Tyrrel,  who  promised  to  see  that  his  cruel  orders 
were  executed.  But  even  Tvrrel  was  not  savage  enough,  to 
execute  them  with  his  own  hand  ;  he  had  not  the  hardihood 
even  to  look  on  while  it  was  done.     He  accordingly  employed 

Y.  Christiaa.  1  5 


338  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

three  ruffians,  whose  names  were  Slater,  Dighton,  and  For- 
rest, who  came  hi  the  night-time  to  the  door  of  the  chamber 
in  the  Tower  where  the  poor  boys  were  confined.  The 
murderers  found  them  sleeping  quietly  in  their  beds.  They 
killed  them  by  suffocating  them  with  the  bolster  and  pillows, 
and  then  showed  the  dead  bodies  to  Tyrrel,  that  he  might 
assure  Richard  that  they  were  no  more.  The  ambitious 
and  cruel  duke  became,  by  these  means,  Richard  III.  king 
of  England. 

Wow,  in  reviewing  this  story — and  a  hundred  others 
might  have  easily  been  found  which  would  have  answered 
the  purposes  of  this  illustration  just  as  well — we  see  that 
the  guilt  which  it  discloses  may  be  easily  analyzed  into 
three  distinct  portions. 

1 .  The  external  acts.  I  mean,  the  rushing  in  of  armed 
men  at  the  table — the  wounding  of  Lord  Stanley — the  be- 
heading of  Lord  Hastings — the  reading  of  the  false  procla- 
mation— and  the  murder  of  the  children  in  their  bed.  These 
deeds  were  not  performed  by  Richard  himself;  he  hired  others 
to  perpetrate  these  crimes,  and  he  had  not  himself,  directly, 
any  thing  to  do  with  them.  It  may  be  difficult  to  find,  in 
the  whole  story,  any  one  external  act  which  Richard  did 
which  was  wrong. 

2.  The  internal  acts  or  determinations  of  ??iind.  That 
is,  the  plans  which  Richard  formed  and  the  wicked  resolu- 
tions which  he  ca-me  to.  He  must,  for  example,  at  one  time 
have  hesitated  whether  he  should  have  Hastings  murdered 
or  not.  He  weighed  the  difficulties  and  dangers  on  the  one 
side,  and  the  advantages  to  his  cause  on  the  other,  and  at 
last  he  resolved  to  do  it.  This  was  a  mental  act.  In  the 
same  manner  the  determination  to  have  the  princes  mur- 
dered Avas  an  act  of  his  mind.  It  was  savage  and  abomina- 
ble in  the  extreme ;  but  what  I  wish  to  have  particularly 
noticed  in  it  is,  that  it  was  a  voluntary  act.  He  deliberated 
about  it,  and  then  he  voluntarily  resolved  upon  it.     His 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  339 

whole  conduct  throughout  this  business  is  a  series  of  most 
"wicked  mental  acts,  which  he  deliberately  performed,  and 
for  which  he  was  guilty,  though  he  contrived  to  put  off  the 
external  deeds  of  violence  to  the  hands  of  others. 

3.  The  ambitioiis  and  cruel,  heart  which  instigated 
these  acts.  "Washington  would  not  have  done  such  things. 
King  Alfred  would  not  have  done  them.  No.  Richard 
had,  by  a  distinction  which,  for  all  the  practical  purposes 
of  life,  will  always  be  made,  a  savage  and  an  unprincipled 
character,  without  which  he  would  not  have  done  such 
things.  Another  man,  when  hesitating:  whether  to  murder 
two  innocent  boys,  in  order  to  prepare  a  way  for  himself  to 
a  throne,  would  have  found  principles  of  compassion  and  of 
justice  coming  up,  he  knows  not  how  or  whither,  but  still 
coming  up  to  arrest  his  hand.  Richard  had  nothing  of  this 
sort.  He  was  ambitious  and  sanguinary  and  unrelenting  in 
character  as  well  as  in  conduct.  Before  he  performed  any  of 
these  mental  acts,  that  is,  came  to  those  wicked  determina- 
tions named  under  the  second  head,  he  had  a  heart  which 
fitted  him  exactly  for  them. 

It  is  evident  too,  and  this  is  a  point  of  the  greatest  im- 
portance, that  this  cruel  and  ambitious  disposition,  which 
was  the  origin  of  all  his  wicked  plans,  is  not  voluntary  in 
the  same  sense  as  the  plans  themselves  are.  In  regard  to 
his  positive  determinations  to  have  the  children  murdered, 
for  example,  he  deliberated,  and  then  voluntarily  decided 
upon  it.  But  who  supposes  that  he  ever  deliberated,  while 
he  was  carrying  forward  his  schemes,  whether  he  would  be 
a  cruel  or  a  merciful  man,  and  decided  upon  the  former  ? 
"When  he  awoke  each  morning,  he  undoubtedly  thought 
about  the  coming  day,  and  formed  his  designs.  He  said  to 
himself,  "  I  will  do  this,  or  I  will  stop  that.  I  will  have  this 
man  killed  to-day,  or  I  will  banish  that  man."  But  who 
imagines  that,  every  morning,  he  considered  and  decided 
whether  he  should  be  virtuous  or  vicious  that  day  in  heart  ? 


340  THE    YOUNG-   CHRISTIAN. 

Who  can  suppose  that  he  formed  such  resolutions  as  these  : 
"  I  will  be  a  cruel  man  to-day ;  I  will  have  no  principle  and 
no  compassion  for  others,  but  will  delight  only  hi  my  own 
ambition?"  No.  He  was  cruel  and  ambitious  and  san- 
guinary without  determining  to  be  so  ;  for  the  question, 
what  general  character  he  should  cherish,  probably  never 
came  up.  All  that  he  deliberated  and  decided  upon  unques- 
tionably was,  by  what  specific  plans  he  should  gratify  the  im 
pukes  of  his  wicked  heart.  He  determined  upon  these  plans, 
but  he  did  not  determine  upon  the  impulses.  He  would 
sometimes  resolve  to  plan  the  destruction  of  an  enemy,  or 
to  take  certain  steps  which  should  lead  him  to  the  throne  ; 
but  he  never  said  to  himself,  "  Now  I  will  awaken  iu  my- 
self an  impulse  of  cruelty  ;  now  I  will  call  up  into  my  heart 
ungovernable  ambition  and  love  of  power."  No  ;  these 
feelings  reigned  in  his  heart  from  clay  to  day,  without  any 
direct  effort  on  his  part  to  keep  them  there.  How  they 
came,  and  why  they  remained,  it  is  not  my  present  purpose 
to  inquire.  All  I  mean  here  to  insist  upon  is,  that  they  are 
not,  like  the  plans  of  iniquity  he  formed,  the  result  of  direct 
choice  and  determination,  and  consequently  not  voluntary, 
in  the  same  sense  in  which  these  plans  themselves  are  the 
result  of  direct  volition.' 

It  may  be  said  that  this  wicked  state  of  heart  was  the 
result  of  previous  bad  conduct,  which  had  formed  a  habit  of 
sin;  and  perhaps  it  was.  I  am  not  trying  to  account  for  it, 
but  only  to  bring  it  to  view.  I  am  simply  endeavoring  to 
show  there  is,  independently  of  the  conduct,  whether  exter- 
nal or  internal  acts  are  meant  by  that  term,  a  state  of  heart 
from  which  that  conduct  flows. 

f*\  Such  considerations  as  these,  and  many  others  which 
misfht  be  introduced  if  necessary,  plainly  show  that  man's 
moral  feelings  are  far  less  under  his  direct  control  than  his 
intellectual  or  his  bodily  powers.  He  may  try  to  lift  a 
weight — he  may  try  to  run,  to  think,  or  to  understand — ■ 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  341 

and  he  will  probably  succeed;  but  it  is  hard  to  love  or  to 
hate  by  merely  trying  to. ,  But  after  stating  thus  and  illus- 
trating this  principle,  there  is  one  sentence  which  I  ought  to 
write  in  capitals,  and  express  with  the  strongest  emphasis  in 
my  power.  The  heart  is  not  independent  of  our  control  \y 
in  such  a  sense  as  to  free  us  from  moral  obligation  and 
accountability.  We  are  most  unquestionably  free  In  the 
exercise  of  every  good  and  of  every  evil  feeling  of  the  heart, 
and  we  are  plainly  accountable  for  them  most  fully,  though 
we  may  not  have  exerted  a  direct  determination  or  volition 
to  bring  them  into  being. 

But  is  there  any  practical  advantage,  it  may  be  asked, 
in  drawing  tins  distinction  between  the  heart  and  the  con- 
duct ?  There  is  a  great  practical  advantage,  otherwise  I 
should  by  no  means  have  taken  so  much  pains  to  exhibit  it ; 
for  although  the  intellectual  effort  which  is  necessary  on  the 
part  of  the  reader  in  going  into  such  a  discussion  is  of  great 
advantage,  I  should  not  have  entered  upon  it  with  that 
object  alone.  I  design  to  introduce  nothing  into  this  book 
but  what  will  be  of  practical  utility. 

It  is  then  practically  important  that  we  should  all  under^ 
stand,  not  only  that  our  conduct — by  which  I  mean  our  actst 
whether  internal  or  external — is  wrong,  but  also  that  we 
have  within  us  evil  hearts,  inclining  us  to  go  astray ;  and 
that  this  evil  heart  itself  is  distinct  from  the  going  astray 
which  results  from  it.  A  clear  conception  of  this  is  the  only  * 
safeguard  against  that  self-sufficiency  which  is  destructive 
of  all  religious  progress.  "The  heart,"  says  the  word  of 
God  "is  deceitful  above  all  things,  and  desperately  wicked." 
The  power  which  created  it,  alone  can  change  its  tenden* 
cies,  so  as  to  make  it  as  easy  and  as  natural  for  us  to  do 
right  as  it  is  now  to  do  wrong.  To  this  power  we  must 
look.  We  must  look  to  God  too  with  a  feeling  of  distrust 
of  ourselves,  and  a  conviction  that  help  can  come  only  from 
him.     "  0  wretched  man  that  I  am  ;  who  shall  deliver  me 


342  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

from  the  body  of  this  death  ?"  Yes,  free  as  man  is,  and 
fully  and  entirely  accountable  as  he  is  for  all  his  conduct, 
there  is  a  sense  in  which  he  is  a  miserable  slave  to  sin,  in 
wretched  bondage  to  a  tyrant,  from  whose  chains  no  strug- 
gles of  his  own  will  ever  set  him  free.  When  he  realizes 
this,  and  feels  humbled  and  powerless,  and  utterly  depend- 
ent upon  divine  grace,  then  God  is  ready  to  come  into  hia 
soul  to  purify  and  to  save  him. 

Jn  thus  discussing  this  point,  it  has  not  been  my  inten- 
tion to  go  metaphysically  into  the  subject  of  the  nature  of 
moral  agency.  My  design  has  only  been  to  show  to  Chris 
tians,  that  the  feelings  of  penitence  for  sin  and  ardent  love 
to  the  Saviour,  are  not  feelings  which  they  are  to  bring  to 
their  hearts  by  struggling  directly  to  introduce  them.  You 
cannot  be  penitent  by  simply  trying  to  be  penitent.  You 
cannot  hate  sin  or  love  God  more  sincerely  than  you  do,  by 
simply  trying  to  feel  thus.  The  heart  is  to  be  moulded  and 
guided  in  other  ways. 

Some  of  these  ways  by  which  the  heart  is  to  be  led  more 
and  more  to  God,  I  shall  describe. 

1.  By  acquiring  true  knowledge.  If  you  are  a  Christian 
at  all,  your  piety  will  be  increased  and  strengthened  by  bring- 
ing often  before  your  mind  those  truths  which  show  the 
necessity  of  piety.  Instead  of  struggling  directly  to  bring 
penitence  to  your  heart  by  an  effort  of  the  will,  spend  a 
part  of  your  little  season  of  retirement  in  reflecting  on  the 
consequences  of  sin.  Look  around  you  and  see  how  many 
families  it  has  made  miserable,  how  many  hearts  it  has  des- 
olated. Think  of  the  power  it  has  had  in  ruining  the  world 
in.  which  we  live,  and  how  dreadful  would  be  its  ravages  if 
God  should  permit  it  to  have  its  way  among  all  his  crea- 
tures. Reflect  how  it  has  destroyed  your  own  peace  of 
mind,  injured  your  usefulness,  brought  a  stain  upon  the 
Christian  name.  Reflect  upon  such  subjects  as  these,  so 
as  to  increase  the  vividness  of  your  knoivledge — and  though 


BK/f 


r 

PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  343  -  rmX 

you  make  no  effort  to  feel  penitence,  emn  if-. you  domot  ,  <* 
think  of  penitence  at  all,  it  will  rise  in  your  t^$  i£  jSSreTs 
any  grace  there.  You  cannot  look  upon  the  consequences 
of  sin  without  repenting  that  you  have  ever  assisted  to  pro- 
cure them.  Peter  did  not  repent  of  his  treachery  by  trying 
to  feel  sorry.  The  Lord  turned  and  looked  upon  Peter ; 
that  look  brought  with  it  recollection.  He  saw  clearly  Irs 
relation  to  his  Saviour,  and  the  ingratitude  of  his  denial  of 
him. 

It  is  so  with  all  the  other  emotions  of  piety.  You  will 
not  succeed  in  loving  God  supremely  by  simply  making  the 
direct  effort  to  do  so.  Yfould  you  become  more  thankful  ? 
Look  at  his  goodness  and  mercy  to  you ;  see  it  in  the  thou- 
sand forms  in  which  it  shines  upon  you.  Do  not  dwell  upon 
it  hi  generals,  but  come  to  minute  particulars,  and  whether 
old  or  young,  and  whatever  may  be  the  circumstances  of 
your  lives,  reflect  carefully  upon  God's  kind  dealings  with 
you.  Are  you  a  mother  ?  As  you  hold  your  infant  upon 
your  knee,  or  observe  its  playful  brothers  and  sisters  in  health 
and  happiness  around  you,  consider  a  moment  by  whose* 
goodness  they  were  given  to  you,  and  by  whose  mercy  they 
are  daily  spared.  Are  you  a  child  ?  Look  upon  the  com- 
forts and  privileges  and  the  sources  of  happiness  which  God 
has  given  you — and  while  you  view  them,  remember  that 
every  week  there  are  multitudes  of  children  around  you  suf- 
fering from  cold,  from  hunger,  from  neglect,  or  who  are  sum- 
moned to  an  early  grave.  I  have  stood  at  the  bedside  of  a 
child  who  was  a  fortnight  before  in  her  class  at  the  Sabbath- 
school,  and  seen  her  sink  from  day  to  day  under  the  grasp  of 
sickness  and  pain,  until  her  reason  failed  and  her  strength 
was  gone,  and  at  last  she  slumbered  in  death.  A  few  days 
afterwards  she  was  deposited,  in  the  depth  of  winter,  in  her 
cold  grave.  Blustering  storms  and  wintry  tempests  do  not 
indeed  disturb  the  repose  of  the  tomb,  but  when  you  are  sit- 
ting in  health  and  happiness  at  your  own  cheerful  fireside, 


344  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

and  hear  the  howling  winds  which  SAveep  around  you — or  in 
a  more  genial  season  feel  the  warm  breath  of  spring  upon 
your  healthful  cheek — can  you  think  of  the  thousand  cases 
like  the  one  I  have  alluded  to,  and  not  feel  grateful  to  your 
kind  Protector  ?  If  your  heart  is  not  entirely  unrenewed — 
and  I  am  speaking  now  to  Christians — a  devout  gratitude 
will  be  warmly  awakened  while  you  reflect  upon  God's  good- 
ness, and  thus  learn  how  much  you  are  indebted  to  him. 

It  is  thus  with  other  feelings  ;  they  are  to  come  to  the 
heart,  not  by  the  direct  effort  to  bring  them  there,  but  by 
bringing  to  view  the  truths  which  are  calculated  to  awaken 
them.  If  your  heart  is  right  towards  God  in  any  degree, 
the  presentation  of  these  truths  will  awaken  penitence  and 
love  ;  and  the  more  knowledge  you  acquire  in  regard  to  your 
relations  to  your  Maker  and  his  dealings  with  you,  the  more 
rapid  will  be  your  growth  in  grace. 

2.  The  second  means  of  growing  in  grace  is  Christian 
action.  Faith  will  not  only  show  itself  by  works,  but  works 
will  increase  faith.  Let  a  man  make  an  effort  to  relieve  a 
sufferer,  and  he  becomes  more  and  more  interested  for  him. 
He  first  sends  him  a  little  food,  or  a  little  fire,  when  he  is 
sick,  and  he  finds  that  this  does  good ;  it  relieves  the  pres- 
sure, and  brings  cheering  and  encouragement  to  the  family, 
before  just  ready  to  despair.  The  benefactor  then  becoming 
more  interested  in  the  case,  sends  a  physician  ;  and  when 
the  patient  recovers,  he  procures  business  for  him  ;  and  goes 
on  from  step  to  step,  until  perhaps  at  last  he  feels  a  greater 
interest  in  that  one  case  than  in  all  the  suffering  poor  of  the 
town  besides.  It  all  began  by  his  simply  sending  a  little 
wood,  which  was,  perhaps,  almost  accidental,  or  at  least 
prompted  by  a  very  slight  benevolent  feeling.  This  feeling 
has,  however,  increased  to  a  strong  and  steady  principle ; 
and  to  what  is  its  increase  owing  ?  simply  to  his  benevolent 
effort. 

I  have  already  once  or  twice  alluded  to  the  benevolent 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  345 

Howard,  who  went  through  Europe  visiting  the  prisons, 
that  he  might  learn  the  condition  of  their  unhappy  tenants 
and  relieve  their  sufferings.  And  how  was  it  that  he  be- 
came so  much  interested  in  prisoners  ?  It  devolved  upon 
him,  in  the  discharge  of  some  public  duty  in  his  own  county 
in  England,  to  do  something  for  the  relief  of  prisoners  there, 
and  the  moment  he  began  to  do  something  for  the  prisoners, 
that  moment  he  began  to  love  them  ;  and  the  more  he  did  for 
them,  the  more  strongly  he  was  attached  to  their  cause. 

The  apostle  Paul  is  one  of  the  most  striking  examples  of 
the  power  of  Christian  effort  to  promote  Christian  love.  He 
gave  himself  wholly  to  his  work,  and  the  consequence  was, 
he  became  completely  identified  with  it.  He  loved  it  better 
than  he  did  life,  and  some  of  the  strongest  expressions  of 
attachment  to  the  Saviour  which  the  Bible  contains,  are  to 
be  found  in  the  language  he  uses  when  he  was  drawing 
towards  the  close  of  his  labors  upon  earth. 

If  we  then  would  grow  in  attachment  to  our  Saviour, 
wj^must  do  something  for  him.  But  notice — it  is  not  the 
mere  external  act  which  will  promote  your  growth  in  piety ; 
the  act  must  be  performed,  in  some  degree  at  least,  from 
Christian  principle.  You  can  all  put  this  method  immedi- 
ately to  the  test.  Think  of  something  which  you  can  do  in 
which  you  will  be  .cooperating  with  God.  The  design  of 
God  is  to  relieve  suffering  and  promote  happiness  wherever 
there  is  opportunity  ;  and  as  sin  is  the  greatest  obstacle  in 
the  way,  he  directs  Ins  first  and  chief  efforts  to  the  removal 
of  sin.  Now  endeavor  to  find  something  which  you  can  do, 
by  which  sin  can  be  removed  or  suffering  alleviated,  and  go 
forth  to  the  work  feeling  that  you  are  cooperating  with  your 
Saviour  in  his  great  and  benevolent  plans.  Perhaps  you 
will  find  an  opportunity  in  your  own  family,  or  perhaps  in 
your  neighborhood  ;  but  wherever  it  is  done,  if  you  go  forth 
to  the  duty  under  the  influence  of  attachment  to  the  Saviour 
and  love  to  men,  these  feelings  will  certainly  be  increased 

15* 


/ 


346  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

by  the  effort.  You  will  feel,  while  you  do  it,  that  you  are  a 
co-worker  with  God — that  you  are,  as  it  were,  making  com- 
mon cause  with  him,  and  the  bonds  by  which  you  were 
before  bound  to  him  are  strengthened. 

Go  forward,  then,  efficiently  in  doing  good;  set  your 
hearts  upon  it.  If  you  feel  that  you  have  but  little  love  to 
God,  bring  that  little  into  exercise,  and  it  will  grow. 

3.  The  last  of  the  means  of  growing  in  grace  which  I 
shall  now  mention,  is  a  humble  sense  of  dependence  on  the 
influences  of  the  Holy  Spirit,  and  sincere  prayer  for  those 
influences.  I  freely  acknowledge  the  difficulty  which  this 
subject  presents.  If  we  attempt  to  form  any  theory  by 
which  we  can  clearly  comprehend  how  accountability  can 
rest  upon  a  soul  which  is  still  dependent  upon  a  higher 
power  for  all  that  is  good,  we  shall  only  plunge  ourselves  in 
endless  perplexity.  We  know  that  we  are  accountable  for 
all  our  feelings,  as  well  as  for  our  words  and  deeds,  and  at 
the  same  time  we  know  that  those  feelings  will  prevail 
within  us  which  reason  and  conscience  condemn,  unless  the 
Holy  Spirit  saves  us  from  being  their  prey.  How  emphati- 
cally does  the  language  of  Paul  describe  our  melancholy  sub- 
jection to  this  law  of  sin. 

"  For  I  know  that  in  me  (that  is,  in  my  flesh)  dwelleth 
no  good  thing  :  for  to  will  is  present  with  me  ;  but  how  to 
perform  that  which  is  good,  I  find  not.  For  the  good  that 
1  would,  I  do  not ;  but  the  evil  which  I  would  not,  that  I 
do.  Now  if  I  do  that  I  would  not,  it  is  no  more  I  that  do  it, 
but  sin  that  dwelleth  in  me.  I  find  then  a  law,  that  when 
I  would  do  good,  evil  is  present  with  me.  For  I  delight  in 
the  law  of  God,  after  the  inward  man  :  but  I  see  another 
law  in  my  members  warring  against  the  law  of  my  mind, 
and  bringing  me  into  captivity  to  the  law  of  sin  which  is  in 
my  members.  0  wretched  man  that  I  am  !  who  shall  de- 
liver me  from  the  body  of  this  death  ?" 

The  conclusion  to  which  he  comes  in  the  next  verse  is 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  347 

the  right  one,  .that  God  will  deliver  us  through  Jesus  Christ 
our  Lord.  "We  must  feel  then  humbly  dependent  on  an 
influence  from  above.  Let  us  come  daily  to  our  Father  in 
heaven,  praying  him  to  draw  us  to  the  Saviour ;  we  shall 
not  come  unless  he  draws  us.  Let  us  feci  dependent  every 
day  for  a  fresh  supply  of  divine  grace  to  keep  these  hearts  in 
a  proper  frame.  It  is  not  enough  to  express  this  feeling  in 
our  morning  prayer ;  we  must  $arry  it  with  us  into  all  the 
circumstances  of  the  day.  When  we  are  going  into  tempta- 
tion we  must  say,  "  Lord,  hold  thou  me  up,  and  I  shall  be 
safe,"  and  we  must  say  it  with  a  feeling  of  entire  moral 
dependence  on  God. 

Nor  need  we  fear  that  this  sense  of  dependence  on  God 
will  impair  our  sense  of  personal  guilt,  when  we  wilfully  sin 
against  him.  I  do  not  attempt  to  present  any  theory  by 
which  the  two  may  be  shown  to  be  compatible  with  each 
other.  We  camiot  easily  understand  the  theory,  but  we  feel 
and  know  that  both  are  true.  We  all  know  that  we  are 
guilty  for  living  in  sin  ;  and  we  feel  and  know  that  our  hearts 
do  not  change,  simply  by  our  determining  that  they  shall. 
Since,  then,  the  two  truths  are  clear,  let  us  cordially  admit 
them  both.  Let  us  hi  the  spirit  of  humility,  and  entire  trust 
in  God's  word,  believe  our  Maker  when  he  says,  "  It  is  not 
of  him  that  willeth,  nor  of  him  that  runneth,  but  of  God 
that  showeth  mercy."  Let  us  receive  this  cordially,  how- 
ever inconsistent  it  may  seem  to  be  with  the  injunction, 
"strive" — agonize — "to  enter  in  at  the  strait  gate;"  and 
let  us  come  before  him  praying  that  he  will  turn  our  hearts 
to  holiness — and  at  the  same  time  let  us  see  and  feel  our 
guilt  hi  neglecting  duty  and  disobeying  God  as  we  do. 

This  feeling  of  entire  dependence  on  the  Holy  Spirit  for 
moral  progress,  is  the  safest  and  happiest  feeling  which  the 
Christian  can  cherish.  Such  weakness  and  helplessness  as 
ours  loves  protection,  and  if  we  can  fully  make  up  our  minds 
that  there  is  a  difficulty  in  this  subject  beyond  our  present 


348  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

powers  to  surmount,  Ave  can  feel  fully  our  own  moral  respon- 
sibility, and  at  the  same  time  know  that  our  dearest  moral 
interests  are  in  God's  care.  This  feeling  is  committing  our 
souls  to  our  Saviour's  keeping  and  care.  "Were  our  hearts 
entirely  under  our  own  direct  control,  independent  of  God, 
we,  and  we  only,  could  be  their  keepers  ;  but  if  we  have 
given  our  hearts  to  Christ,  he  has  promised  to  keep  us  by  his 
"power.  He  is  able  to  keep  us.  He  has  control,  after  all, 
in  our  hearts  ;  and  if  we  put  our  trust  in  him,  he  will  keep 
us  from  falling,  and  present  us  at  last  faultless  before  the 
throne  of  his  glory  with  exceeding  joy. 

II.  INTELLECTUAL  IMPEOVE1CENT. 

It  may  perhaps  seem  strange  that  I  should  discuss  the 
subject  of  intellectual  progress  in  a  book  devoted  to  an  ex- 
planation and  enforcement  of  the  principles  of  piety.  I 
should  not  do  this  were  I  not  firmly  persuaded  that  a  regu- 
lar and  uninterrupted  intellectual  progress  is  a  duty  which 
is  peculiarly  binding  upon  the  Christian.  Let  the  reader 
reflect  a  moment,  that  those  intellectual  powers  which  God 
has  given  him  are  intended  to  exist  for  ever,  and  that  if  he 
shall  be  prepared  at  death  to  enter  the  world  of  happiness, 
they  will  go  on  expanding  for  ever,  adding  not  only  to  Iris 
means,  but  to  his  capacities  of  enjoyment. 

The  great  mass  of  .mankind  consider  the  intellectual  pow- 
ers as  susceptible  of  a  certain  degree  of  development  in  child- 
hood, to  prepare  the  individual  for  the  active  duties  of  life. 
This  degree  of  progress  they  suppose  to  be  made  before  the 
age  of  twenty  is  attained,  and  hence  they  talk  of  an  educa- 
tion being  finished.  Now,  if  a  parent  wishes  to  convey  the 
idea  that  his  daughter  has  closed  her  studies  at  school,  or 
that  his  son  has  finished  his  preparatory  professional  course, 
and  is  ready  to  commence  practice,  there  is  perhaps  no  strong 
objection  to  his  using  the  common  phrase,  that  the  education 
is  finished ;  but  in  any  general  or  proper  use  of  language, 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  349 

there  is  no  such  thing  as  a  finished  education.  The  most 
successful  student  that  ever  left  a  school,  or  took  his  degree- 
at  college,  never  arrived  at  a  good  place  to  stop  in  his  intel- 
lectual course.  In  fact,  the  farther  he  goes  the  more  desir- 
ous will  he  feel  to  go  on  ;  and  if  you  wish  to  find  an  instance 
of  the  greatest  eagerness  and  interest  with  which  the  pursuit 
of  knowledge  is  prosecuted,  you  will  find  it  undoubtedly  in 
the  case  of  the  most  accomplished  and  thorough  scholar 
which  the  country  can  furnish,  who  has  spent  a  long  life  in 
study,  and  who  finds  that  the  farther  he  goes  the  more  and 
more  widely  does  the  boundless  field  of  intelligence  open 

before  him. 

Give  up  then,  at  once,  all  idea  of  finislmig  your  educa- 
tion. The  sole  object  of  the  course  of  discipline  at  any 
literary  institution  in  our  land  is  not  to  finish,  but  just  to 
show  vou  how  to  begin;  to  give  you  an  impulse  and  a 
direction  upon  that  course  which  you  ought  to  pursue 
with  unabated  and  uninterrupted  ardor  as  long  as  you  have 

being. 

It  is  unquestionably  true,  that  every  person,  whatever 
are  his  circumstances  or  condition  in  life,  ought  at  all  times 
to  be  making  some  steady  efforts  to  enlarge  Iris  stock  of 
knowledge,  to  increase  his  mental  powers,  and  thus  to  ex- 
pand the  field  of  his  intellectual  vision.  I  suppose  most  of 
my  readers  are  convinced  of  this,  and  are  desirous,  if  the 
way  can  only  be  distinctly  pointed  out,  of  making  such 
efforts.  In  fact,  no  inquiry  is  more  frequently  made  by 
intelligent  young  persons  than  this  :  "  "What  course  of  read- 
ing shall  I  pursue  ?  What  books  shall  I  select,  and  what 
plan  in  reading  them  shall  I  adopt  ?"  These  inquiries  I 
now  propose  to  answer. 

The  objects  of  study  are  of  several  kinds  ;  some  of  the 
most  important  I  shall  enumerate. 

1.    To  increase   our  intellectual  2JOicers.      Every  one 
knows  that  there  is  a  difference  of  ability  in  different  minds, 


350  THE   YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

but  it  is  not  so  distinctly  understood  that  every  one's  abili- 
ties may  be  increased  or  strengthened  by  a  kind  of  culture 
adapted  expressly  to  this  purpose ;  I  mean  a  culture  which 
is  intended  not  to  add  to  the  stock  of  knowledge,  but  only 
to  increase  intellectual  'power.  Suppose,  for  example,  that 
■when  Robinson  Crusoe  on  his  desolate  island  had  first  found 
Friday  the  savage,  he  had  said  to  himself  as  follows  : 

"  This  man  looks  wild  and  barbarous  enough ;  -he  is  to 
stay  with  me  and  help  me  in  my  various  plans,  but  he  could 
help  me  much  more  effectually  if  he  was  more  of  an  intel- 
lectual being  and  less  of  a  mere  animal.  Now  I  can  in- 
crease Ins  intellectual  power  by  culture,  and  I  will.  But 
what  shall  I  teach  him  ?" 

On  reflecting  a  little  farther  upon  the  subject,  he  would 
say  to  himself  as  follows : 

"■  I  must  not  always  teach  him  things  necessary  for  him 
to  know  in  order  to  assist  me  in  my  work,  but  I  must  try 
to  teach  him  to  think  for  himself.  Then  he  will  be  far 
more  valuable  as  a  servant,  than  if  he  has  to  depend  upon 
me  for  every  thing  he  does." 

Accordingly  some  evening  when  the  two,  master  and 
man,  have  finished  the  labors  of  the  day,  Robinson  is  walk- 
ing upon  the  sandy  beach,  with  the  wild  savage  by  Ins  side, 
and  he  concludes  to  give  him  his  first  lesson  in  mathematics. 
He  picks  up  a  slender  and  pointed  shell,  and  with  it  draws 
carefully  a  circle  upon  the  sand. 

"  What  is  that  ?"  says  Friday. 

"It  is  what  we  call  a  circle,"  says  Robinson.  "  I  want 
you  now  to  come  and  stand  here,  and  attentively  consider 
what  I  am  going  to  tell  you  about  it." 

Now  Friday  has,  we  will  suppose,  never  given  his  seri- 
ous attention  to  any  thing,  or  rather,  he  has  never  made  a 
serious  mental  effort  upon  any  subject  for  five  minutes  at  a 
time  in  his  life.  The  simplest  mathematical  principle  is 
a  complete  labyrinth  of  perplexity  to  him.     He  comes  up 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  351 

And  looks  at  the  smooth  and  beautiful  curve  which  his 
master  has  drawn  hi  the  sand  with  a  gaze  of  stupid  amaze- 
ment. 

"  Now  listen  carefully  to  what  I  say,"  says  Robinson, 
"  and  see  if  you  can  understand  it.  Do  you  see  this  little 
point  I  make  in  the  middle  of  the  circle  ?" 

Friday  says  he  does,  and  wonders  what  is  to  come  from 
the  magic  character  which  he  sees  before  him. 

"  This,"  continues  Robinson,  "  is  a  circle,  and  that  point 
is  the  centre.  Now,  if  I  draw  lines  from  the  centre  hi  any 
direction  to  the  outside,  these  lines  will  all  be  equal." 

So  saying,  he  draws  several  lines.  He  sets  Friday  to 
measuring  them.  Friday  sees  that  they  are  equal,  and  is 
pleased,  from  two  distinct  causes  :  one,  that  he  has  success- 
fully exercised  his  thinking  powers,  and  the  other,  that  he 
has  learned  something  which  he  never  knew  before. 

I  wish  now  that  the  reader  would  understand  that 
Robinson  does  not  take  this  course  with  Friday  because  he 
wishes  liim  to  understand  the  nature  of  the  circle.  Suppose 
we  were  to  say  to  him,  "  "Why  did  you  choose  such  a  lesson 
as  that  for  your  savage  ?  You  can  teach  him  much  more 
useful  things  than  the  properties  of  the  circle.  What  good 
will  it  do  him  to  know  how  to  make  circles  ?  Do  you 
expect  him  to  draw  geometrical  diagrams  for  you,  or  to 
calculate  and  project  eclipses." 

"No,"  Robhison  would  reply;  "I  do  not  care  about 
Friday's  understanding  the  properties  of  the  circle.  But  I 
do  want  him  to  be  a  thinking  being,  and  if  I  can  induce 
him  to  think  half  an  hour  steadily  and  carefully,  it  is  of  no 
consequence  upon  what  subject  his  thoughts  are  employed. 
I  chose  the  circle  because  that  seemed  easy  and  distinct — 
.  —  ble  for  the  first  lesson.  I  do  not  know  that  he  will 
ever  have  occasion  to  make  use  of  the  fact,  that  the  radii 
of  a  circle  are  equal,  as  long  as  he  shall  live — but  he  will 
have   occasion   for   the  power  of  'patient   attention   and 


352  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

thought  which  he  acquired  while  attempting  to  understand 
that  subject." 

This  would  unquestionably  be  sound  philosophy,  and  a 
savage  who  should  study  such  a  lesson  on  the  beach  of  his 
own  wild  island  would  for  ever  after  be  less  of  a  savage  than 
before.  The  effect  upon  his  mental  powers,  of  one  single 
effort  like  that,  would  last ;  and  a  series  of  such  efforts 
would  transform  him  from  a  fierce  and  ungovernable,  but 
stupid  animal,  to  a  cultivated  and  intellectual  man. 

Thus  it  is  with  all  education.  One  great  object  is  to 
increase  the  powers,  and  this  is  entirely  distinct  from  the 
acquisition  of  knowledge.  Scholars  very  often  ask,  when 
pursuing  some  difficult  study,  ';  What  good  will  it  do  me  to 
know  this  ?"  But  that  is  not  the  question.  They  ought 
to  ask,  "  What  good  will  it  do  me  to  learn  it  ?  What  effect 
upon  my  habits  of  thinking,  and  upon  my  intellectual  pow- 
ers, will  be  produced  by  the  efforts  necessary  to  examine 
and  to  conquer  these  difficulties  ?" 

A  very  fine  example  of  tins  is  the  study  of  conic  sec- 
tions, a  difficult  branch  of  the  course  of  mathematics  pur- 
sued in  college  ;  a  study  which,  from  its  difficulty  and  its 
apparent  uselessness,  is  often  very  unpopular  in  the  class 
pursuing  it.  The  question  is  very  often  asked,  <:  What  good 
will  it  ever  do  us  in  after-life,  to  understand  all  these  mys- 
teries of  the  parabola,  and  the  hyperbola,  and  the  ordinates, 
and  abscissas,  and  asymptotes  ?"  The  answer  is,  that  the 
knowledge  of  the  facts  which  you  acquire  will  probably  do 
you  no  good  whatever.  That  is  not  the  object,  and  every 
college  officer  knows  full  well  that  the  mathematical  prin- 
ciples which  this  science  demonstrates,  are  not  brought  into 
use  in  after-life  by  one  scholar  in  ten.  But  every  college 
officer,  and  every  intelligent  student  who  will  watch  the 
operations  of  his  own  mind  and  the  influences  which  such 
exercises  exert  upon  it,  knows  equally  well  that  the  study 
of  the  higher  mathematics  produces  an  effect  in  enlarging 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  353 

and  disciplining  the  intellectual  'poivers  which  the  whole 
of  life  will  not  obliterate. 

Do  not  shrink  then  from  difficult  work  in  your  efforts  at 
intellectual  improvement.  You  ought,  if  you  wish  to  secure 
the  greatest  advantage,  to  have  some  difficult  work,  that 
you  may  acquire  habits  of  patient  research,  and  increase 
and  strengthen  your  intellectual  powers. 

2.  The  acquisition  of  knowledge.  This  is  another 
object  of  intellectual  effort ;  and  a  moment's  reflection  will 
convince  any  one  that  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  is  the 
duty  of  all.  Sometimes  it  has  been  said  by  an  individual 
under  the  influence  of  a  misguided  interest  hi  religious  truth, 
that  he  will  have  nothing  to  do  with  human  learning ;  he 
wdll  study  nothing  but  the  Bible,  and  all  his  leisure  hours 
he  will  give  to  meditation  and  prayer — and  thus  he  will 
devote  his  whole  time  and  strength  to  the  promotion  of  hia 
progress  in  piety.  But  if  there  is  any  tiling  clearly  mani- 
fest of  God's  intentions  in  regard  to  employment  for  man, 
it  is  that  he  should  spend  a  very  considerable  portion  of  his 
time  upon  earth  in  acquiring  knowledge — knowledge,  in 
all  the  extent  and  variety  in  which  it  is  offered  to  human 
powers.  The  whole  economy  of  nature  is  such  as  to  allure 
man  to  the  investigation  of  it,  and  the  whole  structure  of 
his  mind  is  so  framed  as  to  qualify  him  exactly  for  the  work. 
If  now  a  person  begins  in  early  life,  and  even  as  late  as 
twenty,  and  makes  it  a  part  of  his  constant  aim  to  acquire 
knowledge — endeavoring  every  day  to  learn  something  which 
he  did  not  know  before,  or  to  fix  in  the  mind  something 
which  was  not  familiar  before,  he  will  make  an  almost 
insensible,  but  a  most  rapid  and  important  progress.  The 
field  of  his  intellectual  vision  will  widen  and  extend  every 
year.  His  powers  of  mind  as  well  as  his  attainments  will 
be  increased  ;  and  as  he  can  see  more  extensively,  so  he  can 
act  more  effectually  every  month  than  he  could  in  the  pre- 
ceding.    He  thus  goes  on  through  life,  growing  in  know- 


354  IKE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

ledge  and  hi  intellectual  and  moral  power  ;  and  if  his  spirit- 
ual progress  keeps  pace,  as  it  ought  to,  with  his  intellectual 
advancement,  he  is,  with  the  divine  assistance  and  blessing, 
exalting  himself  higher  and  higher  in  the  scale  of  beinn-, 
and  preparing  himself  for  a  loftier  and  wider  field  of  service 
in  the  world  to  come. 

3.  The  acquisition  of  skill  is  a  third  object  of  intellect- 
ual effort.  I  point  out  clearly  and  separately  the  distinct 
objects  which  intellectual  effort  ought  to  have  hi  view,  that 
my  readers  may  ascertain  whether  they  are  doing  something 
to  accomplish  them  all,  and  that  in  all  the  particular  plans 
which  they  may  adopt,  they  may  have  constantly  in  mind 
the  purpose  which  is  in  view  in  each,  in  order  the  more 
effectually  to  secure  it.  I  wish,  therefore,  that  my  readers 
would  notice  particularly  tins  third  head,  for  it  is  one  which 
though  in  some  respects  quite  as  important  as  either  of  the 
others,  is  not  often  very,  clearly  pointed  out. 

To  recur  to  my  illustration  of  Robinson  Crusoe  and  his 
man  Friday.  The  conversation  which  I  supposed  to  be 
held  with  him  on  the  subject  of  the  circle,  was  not  merely 
designed  to  give  him  information  or  skill,  but  to  discipline 
and  improve  his  intellectual  powers  by  the  exercise.  Let 
us  suppose  now,  that  the  next  day  Robinson  had  concluded 
to  tell  him  the  story  of  his  own  past  adventures,  and  sitting 
down  upon  a  green  bank  by  the  side  of  their  hut,  had  given 
him  an  outline  of  his  early  life  in  England — of  his  first 
coming  to  sea — of  his  wanderings  and  adventures  on  the 
great  ocean,  and  of  his  final  shipwreck  on  the  island.  He 
describes  as  well  as  he  can  the  form  and  appearance  of  the 
great  ship  in  which  he  had  sailed,  its  spacious  decks  and 
numerous  company,  and  makes  him  acquainted  with  his 
hope,  that  ere  long,  a  similar  ship,  coming  from  that  same 
native  land,  will  appear  in  the  horizon,  and  come,  attracted 
by  their  signals,  to  the  island,  and  bear  him  away  to  his 
home 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  355 

Nov/,  such  a  conversation  as  this  is  intended  to  give 
information.  It  may  indeed  be  a  useful  discipline  to  Fri- 
day's powers  to  listen  to  it,  but  that  is  not  its  main  design. 
Robinson's  chief  design  is.  to  make  his  savage  companion 
acquainted  with  facts  which  it  is  on  many  accounts  impor- 
tant that  he  should  know. 

Now,  let  us  take  a  third  case.  My  readers  are  all  doubt- 
less aware  that  savages  can  usually  count  only  as  far  as  they 
have  fingers  to  illustrate  their  arithmetic.  Some  tribes  can 
use  both  hands,  counting  as  far  as  ten,  and  when  they  get 
beyond  that,  they  hold  up  both  hands,  shake  their  heads  as  if 
in  perplexity,  and  say,  "  Great  many — great  many.'''  Other 
tribes  can  go  no  farther  than  one  hand,  and  have  no  names 
for  numbering  beyond  five. 

Now,  suppose  Hobinson  were  to  undertake  to  teach 
Friday  to  count.  He  might  say  to  himself,  that  it  would 
often  be  a  great  convenience  to  him  if  Friday  were  able  to 
count,  so  that  he  might  ascertain  and  describe  to  him  num- 
bers  higher  than  those  which  he  could  express  by  his  fingers. 
He  accordingly  commences  the  task,  and  perseveres  day  after 
day  in  the  lesson.  I  say  day  after  day,  for,  easy  as  it  may 
seem  to  us,  it  is  a  matter  of  no  small  difficulty  to  teach  a 
savage  to  count.  Now,  although  there  is  unquestionably 
an  important  mental  discipline  secured  by  such  an  effort  on 
the  part  of  the  savage,  and  although  the  learning  to  count 
is  in  one  sense  the  acquisition  of  knowledge,  it  is,  in  a  much 
more  important  sense,  the  acquisition  of  skill.  By  making 
the  process  of  counting  familiar,  Friday  is  not  so  properly 
acquiring  a  knowledge  of  facts,  as  learning  something  to  do. 
It  is  of  the  nature  of  skill  which  he  is  to  use  in  future  times 
for  the  benefit  of  himself  and  of  Hobinson. 

If  you  call  to  mind  the  various  studies  which  are  urged 
upon  the  attention  of  the  young,  you  will  find  that  skill, 
that  is,  learning  to  do  something,  is  very  often  the  object  in 
view.     It  is  so  with  arithmetic.     In  study ing  the  funda- 


O   I 


56  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

mental  rules,  the  main  design  is,  not  to  bring  in  information 
to  your  minds,  but  to  teach  you  to  do  something.  When 
you  read  history,  yrou  are  acquiring  knowledge — when  you 
study  rhetoric  or  write  composition  for  practice,  you  are 
acquiring  skill.  Now,  all  these  three  objects  in  a  good 
scheme  of  education  are  to  be  kept  constantly  in  view,  and 
to  be  regularly  provided  for.  A  young  man  at  college,  for 
instance,  will  study  his  demonstration  hi  the  mathematics 
in  the  morning,  for  the  purpose  of  improving  and  strength- 
ening Ids  powers;  he  will  listen  to  a  philosophical  or  chem- 
ical lecture,  or  study  botany  in  the  fields,  in  the  afternoon,  to 
obtain  knowledge,  and  in  the  evening  he  will  practice  in  his 
debating  society,  to  acquire  skill.  These  three  things  are 
distinct  and  independent,  but  all  equally  important  in  the 
business  of  life.  If  one  is  cultivated  and  the  others  neg- 
lected, the  man  is  very  poorly  qualified  for  usefulness  ;  and 
yet,  nothing  is  more  common  than  such  half-educated  men. 
I  have  often  known  persons  in  whom  the  first  of  these 
objects  alone  was  secured.  You  will  recognizer  one  who  is 
in  danger  of  such  a  result  in  his  education,  by  his  taking  a 
strong  interest,  if  he  is  in  college,  for  example,  in  those  pur- 
suits in  his  class  which  require  more  of  great  but  temporary 
mental  effort,  and  by  his  neglecting  the  equally  important 
parts  of  his  course  which  would  store  his  mind  with  facts. 
He  attracts  the  admiration  of  his  class  by  his  fluent  famil- 
iarity with  all  the  mazes  of  the  most  intricate  theorem  or 
problem  ;  and  he  excites  an  equal  surprise  by  his  apparent 
dulness  at  the  recitation  in  history,  making,  as  he  does,  the 
most  ludicrous  blunders,  and  showing  the  most  lamentable 
ignorance  of  every  thing  which  is  beyond  the  pale  of  demon- 
stration. AVhen  at  last  he  comes  out  into  the  world,  his 
mind  is  acute  and  powerful,  but  he  is  an  entire  stranger  to 
the  scene  in  which  he  is  to  move  ;  he  can  do  no  good,  be- 
cause he  does  not  know  where  his  efforts  are  to  be  applied  ; 
he  makes  the  same  blunders  in  real  life  that  he  did  in  col- 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  357 

lege  in  its  history,  and  is  soon  neglected  and  forgotten.  He 
had  cultivated  simple  j>oiver,  but  was  without  information 
or  skill ;  his  power  was  consequently  almost  useless. 

On  the  other  hand,  a  young  man  may  spend  his  whole 
strength  in  simply  obtaining  knowledge — neglecting  the 
cultivation  of  mental  power,  or  the  acquisition  of  skill.  He 
neglects  his  severer  studies,  and  his  various  opportunities 
for  practice.  "  Spherics  !"  says  he,  "  and  trigonometrical 
formula  !  What  good  will  they  ever  do  me  ?  I  am  not 
going  to  be  an  almanac-maker,  or  to  gain  my  livelihood  by 
calculating  eclipses."  So  he  reads  history  and  voyages  and 
travels,  and  devours  every  species  of  periodical  literature 
which  finds  its  way  within  college  walls.  He  very  probably 
neglects  those  duties  which,  if  faithfully  performed,  would 
cultivate  the  powers  of  conversation  and  writing  and  public 
speaking;  and  he  comes  out  into  the  world  equally  cele- 
brated among  all  who  knew  him,  on  the  one  hand,  for  the 
variety  and  extent  of  his  general  knowledge,  and  on  the  other, 
for  the  slenderness  of  his  original  mental  power,  and  his 
utter  want  of  any  skill  in  bringing  his  multifarious  acquisi- 
tions to  bear  upon  the  objects  of  life. 

In  the  same  manner  I  might  illustrate  the  excessive 
pursuit  of  the  last  of  the  objects  I  have  named,  namely,  the 
acquisition  of  skill,  but  I  think  it  is  unnecessary.  My 
readers  will,  I  think,  all  clearly  see  that  these  objects  are 
distinct,  and  that  all  are  of  the  first  importance  to  every 
one.  To  be  most  extensively  useful,  you  must  have  original 
mental  power  and  knowledge  of  facts,  and  skill  to  apply 
that  knowledge  in  the  most  effectual  manner. 

The  illustrations  which  I  have  employed  have  referred 
more  directly  to  the  cases  of  young  men  in  a  course  of  public 
education,  but  I  have  not  intended  that  these  principles 
should  be  exclusively  applied  to  them.  Nor  are  they  to  be 
confined  in  their  application  to  the  preparatory  stages  of 
education.     Take,  for  example,  a  young  mother  of  a  family. 


358  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

She  ought  at  all  times  to  be  making  daily  intellectual  prog- 
ress, and  this  intellectual  progress  ought  to  be  such  as  to 
secure  a  proportional  attention  to  all  the  three  objects  I  have 
named.  She  ought  to  investigate  something  which  shall 
task  her  powers  to  the  utmost,  so  as  to  secure  discipline  and 
improvement  of  those  powers.  She  ought  also  to  make  reg- 
ular and  systematic  efforts  to  acquire  information — by  read- 
ing and  by  conversation  enlarging  as  much  as  possible  the 
field  of  her  vision,  so  that  she  can  the  more  fully  understand 
the  circumstances  in  which  she  is  placed,  and  the  means  of 
influence  and  usefulness  within  her  reach.  She  ought  also 
to  adopt  systematic  plans  for  increasing  her  skill — by  learn- 
ing, for  example,  system  in  all  her  affairs — by  studying  im- 
provements in  the  manner  in  which  all  her  duties  are  per- 
formed— endeavoring  to  become  more  faithful  and  system- 
atic and  regular  in  all  her  employments.  By  this  means 
she  may  acquire  dexterity  in  every  pursuit,  an  important 
influence  over  other  minds,  and  especially  a  higher  skill  in 
interesting  and  instructing  and  governing  her  children. 

But  I  must  not  go  more  into  detail  in  this  part  of  my 
subject.  The  best  means  of  intellectual  improvement  de- 
mand a  volume  instead  of  a  chapter,  though  a  chapter  is  all 
which  can  be  properly  appropriated  to  them  in  such  a  work 
as  this.  What  I  have  already  said  in  regard  to  the  three 
separate  and  distinct  objects  in  view  in  education,  has  been 
chiefly  designed  to  persuade  my  young  readers  to  engage 
cheerfully  and  cordially  in  all  the  pursuits  which  those  who 
are  older  and  wiser  than  they  have  prescribed,  in  the  various 
literary  institutions  with  which  they  are  connected.  I  shall 
with  these  remarks  leave  the  subject  of  the  pursuit  of  study 
in  literary  seminaries,  and  close  the  chapter  with  a  few 
directions  in  regard  to  such  means  of  improvement  as  may 
be  privately  resorted  to  by  individuals,  in  their  desire  to 
improve. 

I.  Reading.     There  are  several  detached  directions  which 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  359 

will  be  of  great  service  to  you  in  your  private  reading,  it 
they  are  faithfully  followed. 

Read  systematically.  I  mean  by  this,  do  not  take  up 
and  read  any  books  merely  because  they  chance  to  fall  in 
your  way.  You  see  on  your  neighbor's  table  a  book  which 
looks  as  if  it  was  interesting,  as  you  say,  and  you  think  you 
would  like  to  read  it.  You  borrow  it — carry  it  home — and 
at  some  convenient  time  you  begin.  You  soon,  however, 
either  from  taking  it  up  at  a  time  when  you  were  interested 
m  something  else,  or  from  being  frequently  interrupted,  or 
perhaps  from  the  character  of  the  book,  find  it  rather  dull ; 
and  after  wasting  a  few  hours  upon  the  first  fifty  pages,  you 
tumble  over  the  remainder  of  the  leaves,  and  then  send  the 
book  home.  After  a  few  days  more,  you  find  some  other 
book  by  a  similar  accident,  and  pursue  the  same  course. 
Such  a  method  of  attempting  to  acquire  knowledge  from 
books  will  only  dissipate  the  mind,  destroy  all  habits  of  ac- 
curate thinking,  and  unfit  you  for  any  intellectual  progress. 
But  you  must  not  go  into  the  opposite  extreme  of  draw- 
ing up  for  yourself  a  set  of  rules  and  a  system  of  reading  full 
enough  to  occupy  you  for  years,  and  then  begin  upon  that 
with  the  determination  of  confining  yourself,  at  all  hazards, 
rigidly  to  it.     What  I  mean  by  systematic  reading  is  this  : 

Reflect  unon  your  circumstances  and  condition  in  life, 
and  consider  what  sort  of  knowledge  will  most  increase  your 
usefulness  and  happiness.  Then  inquire  of  some  judicious 
friend  for  proper  books.  If  accident  throws  some  book  in 
your  way,  consider  whether  the  subject  upon  which  it  treats 
is  one  which  comes  within  your  plan.  Inquire  about  it,  if 
you  cannot  form  an  opinion  yourself,  and  if  you  conclude  to 
read  it,  persevere  and  finish  it. 

Systematic  reading  requires  too,  that  you  should  secure 
variety  in  your  books.     Look  over  the  departments  of  human 
nowledge,  and  see  that  your  plan  is  so  formed  thai  it  will 
give  you  some  knowledge  of  them  all.     In  regard  to  the 


^ 


360  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

precise  time  and  manner  in  which  you  shall  fill  up  the  de- 
tails, it  is  undoubtedly  best  not  to  form  any  exact  plan.  It 
is  better  to  leave  such  to  be  decided  by  circumstances,  and 
even  by  your  inclinations,  from  time  to  time.  You  will 
enter  with  more  spirit  and  success  into  the  prosecution  of 
any  inquiry,  if  you  engage  in  it  at  a  time  when  it  seems 
alluring  and  interesting  to  you. 

Read  thoroughly.  Avoid  getting  into  the  habit  of  going 
over  the  page  in  a  listless  and  mechanical  manner.  Make 
an  effort  to  penetrate  to  the  full  meaning  of  your  author, 
and  think  patiently  of  every  difficult  passage  until  you  un- 
derstand it ;  or  if  it  baffles  your  unassisted  efforts,  have  it 
explained.  Heading  thoroughly  requires  also  that  you  should 
make  yourself  acquainted  with  all  those  attendant  circum- 
stances which  enable  you  the  more  fully  to  understand  the 
author's  meaning.  Examine  carefully  the  title-page  and 
preface  of  every  book  you  read,  that  you  may  learn  who 
wrote  it,  where  it  was  written,  and  what  it  was  written  for. 
Have  at  hand,  if  possible,  such  helps  as  maps  and  a  gazet- 
teer and  a  biographical  dictionary.  Be  careful,  then,  to  find 
upon  the  map  every  place  mentioned,  and  learn  from  the 
gazetteer  what  sort  of  place  it  is.  If  an  allusion  is  made  to 
any  circumstances  in  the  life  of  an  eminent  man  or  in  public 
history,  investigate  the  allusion  by  books  or  by  inquiry,  so 
as  fully  to  understand  it.  If  possible,  find  other  accounts  of 
the  transactions  which  your  author  is  describing,  and  com- 
pare one  with  another — reflect  upon  the  differences  in  the 
statements,  and  endeavor  to  ascertain  the  truth.  Such  a 
mode  of  reading  as  this  is  a  very  slow  way  of  getting  over 
the  pages  of  a  book,  but  it  is  a  very  rapid  way  of  acquiring 
knowledge. 

Do  not  often  undertake  to  read  extensive  works.  A 
young  person  will  sometimes  commence  some  extensive 
work,  beginning  it  with  no  calculation  of  the  time  which 
will  be  required  to  complete  it,  and  in  fact  with  no  definite 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  361 

plan  whatever.  Such  an  undertaking  is  almost  always  a  fail- 
ure. Any  mind  under  twenty  years  of  age  will  get  wearied 
out  again  and  again  in  going  through  a  dozen  octavo  vol- 
umes on  any  subject  whatever.  There  is  no  objection  to 
reading  such  works,  but  let  it  be  in  detached  'portion?,  at  a 
time.  Select,  for  instance,  from  some  approved  history  of 
England,  the  reign  of  some  one  monarch,  Elizabeth  or  Al- 
fred ;  or  make  choice  of  such  a  subject  as  the  crusades,  or 
the  life  of  Mary  queen  of  Scots,  and  mark  off  such  a  por- 
tion of  the  whole  work  as  shall  relate  to  the  topic  thus 
chosen.  This  can  easily  be  done,  and  with  no  greater  diffi- 
culty on  account  of  its  compelling  the  reader  to  begin  in  the 
middle  of  the  history,  than  must  always  be  felt  in  reading 
history.  If  you  begin  at  the  beginning  of  a  work,  and  go 
regularly  through  to  the  end,  you  will  find  a  thousand  cases 
in  which  the  narrative  you  read  is  comiected  with  other  his- 
tories in  such  a  way  as  to  demand  the  same  effort  to  under- 
stand the  connection  which  will  be  necessary  in  the  course 
I  have  proposed. 

Form  then,  for  your  reading,  short  and  definite  plans. 
When  you  commence  a  work,  calculate  how  long  it  will 
take  you  to  finish  it,  and  endeavor  to  adhere  to  the  plan 
you  shall  form  in  regard  to  the  degree  of  rapidity  with 
which  you  will  proceed.  This  habit,  if  once  formed,  will 
be  the  means  of  promoting  regularity  and  efficiency  in  all 
your  plans. 

II.  Conversation.  This  topic  deserves  a  volume,  in- 
stead of  the  very  brief  notice  which  is  all  that  is  consistent 
with  the  plan  of  this  book.  It  is  known  and  admitted  to  be 
one  of  the  most  important  of  all  attainments,  and  perhaps 
nothing  is  more  desired  by  all  intelligent  young  persons  who 
reflect  at  all  upon  their  means  of  influence  and  improve- 
ment, than  conversational  power.  But  notwithstanding 
this  general  impression  in  its  favor,  there  is  nothing  of  half 
its  importance  which  is  so  entirely  neglected  in  education, 

Y.  Christian.  16 


362  THE   YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

And  there  is,  it  must  be  acknowledged,  a  very  great  diffi- 
culty in  the  subject.  It  cannot  be  taught  in  schools  and  by 
classes,  like  the  other  branches  of  knowledge  or  skill.  Some 
few  successful  experiments  have  indeed  been  made,  but  almost 
every  effort  to  make  it  a  distinct  object  of  attention  in  a  lite- 
rary seminary  has  either  failed  entirely,  or  resulted  in  produc- 
ing a  stiff  and  formal  manner,  which  is  very  far  from  being 
pleasing.  Acquiring  skill  in  conversation  therefore  must,  in 
most  cases,  be  left  to  individual  effort ;  and  even  here,  if  the 
acquisition  of  skill  is  made  the  direct  object,  the  individual 
will  notice  his  manner  so  much,  and  take  so  much  pains 
with  that,  as  to  be  in  peculiar  danger  or  affectation  or  for- 
mality. To  acquire  the  art  of  conversation,  then,  I  would 
recommend  that  ycu  should  practise  conversation  systemati- 
cally and  constantly,  but  that  you  should  have  some  other 
objects  than  improvement  in  your  manner  of  expressing 
yourself  mainly  in  view.  You  will  become  interested  in 
these  objects,  and  consequently  interested  in  the  conversa- 
tion which  you  make  use  of  as  a  means  of  promoting  them; 
and  by  not  having  your  own  manner  directly  in  view,  the 
danger  of  that  stiffness  and  precision  and  affectation  which 
is  so  common  a  result  of  efforts  to  improve  in  such  an  art 
as  this,  will  be  escaped.'  I  will  mention  what  these  objects 
may  be. 

Make  conversation  a  means  of  acquiring  knowledge. 
Every  -person  with  whom  you  are  thrown  into  casual  con- 
nection has  undoubtedly  some  knowledge  which  would  be 
useful  or  valuable  to  you.  You  are  riding  in  the  stage,  I 
will  suppose,  and  the  rough-looking  man  who  sits  by  your 
eide  appears  so  unattractive  that  you  do  not  imagine  that  he 
has  any  thing  to  say  which  can  interest  you.  But  speak  to 
him — draw  him  into  conversation,  and  you  will  find  that  he 
is  a  sea-captain  who  has  visited  a  hundred  ports,  and  can  tell 
you  many  interesting  stories  about  every  clime.  He  will  like 
to  talk,  if  he  finds  you  are  interested  to  hear,  and  you  may 


PERSONAL  IMPROVE.M         *.  363 

make,  "by  his  assistance,  a  more  important  progress  in  really 
useful  knowledge  during  that  day's  ride,  than  by  the  study 
of  the  best  lesson  from  a  book  that  you  ever  learned.  Avail 
yourselves,  in  this  way,  of  every  opportunity  which  Provi- 
dence may  place  within  your  reach. 

You  may  do  much  to  anticipate  and  to  prepare  for  con- 
versation.    You  expect,  I  will  suppose,  to  be  thrown  into  the 
company  of  a  gentleman  residing  in  a  distant  city.     Now, 
before  you  meet  him,  go  to  such  sources  of  information  as 
are  within  your  reach,  and  learn  all  you  can  about  that  city. 
You  will  get  some  hints  in  regard  to  its  public  institutions, 
its  situations,  its  business,  and  its  objects  of  interest  of  every 
kind.     Now  you  cannot  read  the  brief  notices  of  this  sort 
which  common  books  can  furnish,  without  having  your  curi- 
osity excited  in  regard  to  some  points  at  least,  and  you  will 
go  into  the  company  of  the  stranger,  not  dreading  his  pres- 
ence and  shrinking  from  the  necessity  of  conversation,  but 
eager  to  avail  yourself  of  the  opportunity  of  gratifying  your 
curiosity,  and  learning  something  full  and  satisfactory  from 
an  eye-witness  of  the  scenes  which  the  book  had  so  briefly 
described.     By  this  means,  too,  the  knowledge  of  books  and 
of  conversation— of  study  and  of  real  life — will  be  brought 
together;    and  this  is  a  most  important  object  for  you  to 
secure.     It  will  give  vividness  and  an  air  of  reality  to  writ- 
ten description,  if  you  can  frequently,  after  reading  the  de- 
scription, have  an  opportunity  to  converse  with  one  who 
has  seen  the  object  or  the  scene  described. 

You  may  make  a  more  general  preparation  for  the  oppor- 
tunities for  conversation  which  you  will  enjoy.  Consider 
what  places  and  what  scenes  those  with  whom  you  may  be 
casually  thrown  into  connection  will  most  frequently  have 
visited,  and  make  yourself  as  much  acquainted  with  them 
as  possible  ;  you  can  then  converse  about  them.  Ascertain 
too  what  are  the  common  topics  of  conversation  in  the  place 
in  which  you  reside,  and  learn  by  reading  or  by  inquiry  all 


364  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

you  can  about  them;  so  that  you  may  be  prepared  to  un- 
derstand fully  what  you  hear,  and  make  your  own  inquiries 
advantageously,  and  thus  be  qualified  to  engage  intelligently 
and  with  good  effect,  in  the  conversations  in  which  you 
may  join. 

On  the  same  principle  it  will  be  well  for  you,  when  you 
meet  with  any  difficulty  in  your  reading  or  in  your  studies, 
or  when  in  private  meditations  any  inquiries  arise  in  your 
minds  which  you  cannot  yourselves  satisfactorily  answer, 
not  to  dismiss  them  from  your  thoughts  as  difficulties  which 
must  remain  because  you  cannot  yourselves  remove  them. 
Consider  who  of  your  acquaintances  will  be  most  probably 
able  to  assist  you  in  regard  to  each.  One  may  be  a  philo- 
sophical question,  another  a  pomt  of  general  literature,  and  a 
third  may  be  a  question  of  christian  duty.  By  a  moment's 
reflection  you  will  easily  determine  to  whom  each  ought  to 
be  referred  ;  and  when  the  next  opportunity  occurs  you  can 
refer  them,  and  give  yourself  and  your  friend  equal  pleasure 
by  the  conversation  you  will  thus  introduce. 

Make  conversation  a  means  of  digesting  your  know- 
ledge. I  am  obliged  to  use  the  term  digest,  because  there 
is  no  other.  The  food  that  is  received  into  the  system  is, 
by  a  peculiar  set  of  vessels,  dissolved,  and  so  incorporated 
with  the  very  system  itself  as  to  become  actually  a  part  of 
it ;  it  is  assimilated  completely,  and  then,  and  only  then, 
does  it  promote  its  growth  and  strength.  Now,  it  is  just  so 
with  the  reception  of  knowledge.  It  must  not  only  be  re- 
ceived by  the  mind,  but  it  must  be  analyzed  and  incorpo- 
rated with  it,  so  as  to  form  a  part  of  the  very  mind  itself; 
then,  and  not  till  then,  can  the  knowledge  be  properly  said 
to  be  really  possessed.  If  a  scholar  reads  a  passage  in  an 
author,  the  mere  reception  of  it  into  the  mind  as  a  mass  will 
do  very  little  good.  Take,  for  example,  these  very  remarks 
on  conversation :  a  reader  may  peruse  the  pages  thoroughly, 
and  fully  understand  all  that  I  say,  and  yet  the  whole  that 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  365 

I  present  may  lie  in  the  mind  an  undigested  mass,  which 
never  can  nourish  or  sustain.  On  the  other  hand,  it  may 
be  not  merely  received  into  the  mind,  but  made  a  subject 
of  thought  and  reflection  there ;  it  may  be  analyzed ;  the 
principles  it  explains  may  be  applied  to  the  circumstances  of 
the  reader;  the  hints  may  be  carried  out,  and  resolutions 
formed  for  acting  in  accordance  with  the  views  presented. 
By  these  and  similar  means  the  reader  becomes  possessed, 
really  and  fully,  of  new  ideas  on  the  subject  of  conversa- 
tion. His  thoughts  and  notions  in  regard  to  it  are  perma- 
nently changed.  His  knowledge,  in  a  word,  is  digested — 
assimilated  to  his  own  mind,  so  as  to  become  as  it  were  a 
part  of  it,  and  so  intimately  united  with  it  as  not  to  be  sep- 
arated again. 

Now,  conversation  affords  one  of  the  most  important 
means  of  digesting  what  is  read  and  heard.  In  fact,  you 
cannot  talk  about  what  you  learn  without  digesting  it 
Sometimes  two  persons  read  together  aloud,  by  turns ;  each 
one  freely  remarking  upon  what  is  read,  making  inquiries,  or 
bringing:  forward  additional  facts  or  illustrations  connected 
with  the  subject.  Sometimes  two  persons  reading  separately, 
come  together  afterwards  for  a  walk,  and  each  one  describes 
his  own  book,  and  relates  the  substance  of  what  it  contains 
as  far  as  he  has  read,  bringing  down  at  each  successive  meet- 
ing the  narrative  of  the  description  as  far  as  the  reader  has 
gone.  By  this  means  each  acquires  the  power  of  language 
and  expression,  digests  and  fixes  what  he  has  read,  and  also 
gives  information  to  his  companion.  If  any  two  of  my  read- 
ers will  try  this  experiment,  they  will  find  much  pleasure 
and  improvement  from  it. 

III.  Writing.  The  third  and  perhaps  the  most  impor- 
tant of  the  means  of  intellectual  improvement  is  the  use  of 
the  pen.  The  powers  of  the  pen,  as  an  instrument  for 
accomplishing  all  the  objects  of  intellectual  effort,  discipline, 
knowledge,  and  skill,  are  almost  altogether  unknown  among 


366  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

the  young.  I  am  satisfied,  however,  that  any  general 
remarks  which  I  might  make  would  be  less  likely  to  interest 
my  readers  in  this  subject  than  a  particular  description  of 
the  manner  in  which  they  can  best  use  the  pen  to  accom- 
plish the  objects  in  view.  I  shall  accordingly  come  at  once 
to  minute  detail. 

1.  Personal  journal.  Every  young  person  may  take  a 
great  deal  of  pleasure  in  keeping  a  journal  of  his  own  per- 
sonal history.  After  a  very  little  practice  the  work  itself 
will  be  pleasant,  and  the  improvement  which  it  will  promote 
is  far  greater  than  one  who  has  not  experienced  it  would 
expect.  The  style  should  be  a  simple  narrative  of  facts, 
chiefly  descriptions  of  scenes  through  which  you  have  passed, 
and  memoranda  in  regard  to  important  points  of  your  his- 
tory. Every  thing  relating  to  your  progress  in  knowledge, 
your  plans  for  your  own  improvement,  the  books  you  read, 
and  the  degree  of  interest  which  they  excited,  should  be 
noted  down.  You  ought  not  to  resolve  to  write  every  clay, 
because  sometimes  it  will  be  impossible,  and  then  when  your 
resolution  has  once  yielded  to  necessity,  it  will  afterwards 
more  easily  be  broken  by  negligence.  Resolve  simply  to 
write  when  you  can,  only  be  careful  to  watch  yourself,  and 
see  that  you  persevere  in' your  plan,  whatever  interruptions 
may  for  a  time  suspend  it.  At  the  close  of  the  week,  think 
how  you  have  been  employed  during  the  week,  and  make  a 
record — a  short  one  at  least  you  certainly  can — of  what  has 
interested  you.  When,  from  forgetfulness,  or  loss  of  interest 
in  it,  or  pressure  of  other  duties,  you  have  for  a  long  time 
neglected  your  journal,  do  not  throw  it  aside,  and  take  up  a 
new  book  and  begin  formally  once  more,  but  begin  where 
you  left  off — rilling  up  with  a  few  paragraphs  the  interval 
of  the  history,  and  thus  persevere. 

There  should  be  in  a  journal,  and  in  all  the  other  sets  of 
books  which  I  shall  describe,  a  double  running  title,  so  that 
the  general  title  may  be  above  the  particular  subjects  of  each 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  367 

individual  page.     This  double  running  title  would  be  in  the 
following  form : 

1832.  PERSONAL   JOURNAL.  63 

Ride  into  the  country.  Begin  botany.  Jly  sister's  sickness. 

The  reader  will  understand  that  the  number  63  repre- 
sents the  page.  Corresponding  with  1832,  should  be  writ 
ten  on  the  opposite  page  the  name  of  the  place  in  which  the 
writer  resides,  and  the  word  private  may  be  used  instead  ol 
personal,  if  it  is  preferred.  The  book  should  be  of  such  a 
form  as  can  easily  be  written  in,  and  of  moderate  or  small 
size.  You  can  begin  a  second  volume  when  ycu  have  fin- 
ished the  first,  and  the  volumes  will  in  a  few  years  begin  to 
be  numerous.  Some  persons  adopt  the  plan  of  writing  in 
little  books,  stitched  together,  made  of  ten  half  sheets  of  let- 
ter-paper— folded  once,  with  a  plain  marble-paper  cover. 
These  little  pamphlets  are  more  easily  written  in  than  bound 
volumes ;  and  after  a  dozen  of  them  are  filled,  they  may  be 
bound  up  by  a  bookbinder  into  a  volume  of  the  size  of  this 
book.  I  have  seen  many  manuscript  volumes  made  in  this 
way. 

A  journal  now,  kept  in  this  systematic  manner,  will  be 
interesting  and  valuable,  if  you  describe  in  it  the  things  that 
most  interested  you  when  you  kept  it ;  and  if  it  is  carried  on 
regularly  through  life,  even  with  such  interruptions  as  I 
have  alluded  to,  it  will  be  a  most  valuable  and  most  inter- 
esting document.  You  will  read  its  pages  again  and  again 
with  profit  and  pleasure. 

2.  Family  journal.  Let  three  or  four  of  the  older 
brothers  and  sisters  of  a  family  agree  to  write  a  history  ot 
the  family.  Any  father  would  procure  a  book  for  this  pur- 
pose, and  if  the  writers  are  young,  the  articles  intended  for 
insertion  in  it  might  be  written  first  on  separate  paper,  and 
then  corrected  and  transcribed.  The  subjects  suitable  to  be 
recorded  in  such  a  book  will  suggest  themselves  to  every 


36S  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

one  ;  a  description  of  the  place  of  residence  at  the  time  of 
commencing  the  book,  with  similar  descriptions  of  other 
places  from  time  to  time,  in  case  of  removals — the  journeys 
or  absences  of  the  head  of  the  family  or  its  members — the 
sad  scenes  of  sickness  or  death  which  may  be  witnessed,  and 
the  joyous  ones  of  weddings,  or  festivities,  or  holidays — the 
manner  in  which  the  members  are  from  time  to  time  em- 
ployed— and  pictures  of  the  scenes  which  the  fireside  group 
exhibits  in  the  long  winter  evening— or  the  conversation 
which  is  heard  and  the  plans  formed  at  the  supper-table,  or 
hi  the  morning  walk. 

If  a  family,  when  it  is  first  established,  should  commence 
such  a  record  of  their  own  efforts  and  plans,  and  the  various 
dealings  of  Providence  towards  them,  the  father  and  the 
mother  carrying  it  en  jointly  until  the  children  are  old 
enough  to  take  the  pen,  they  would  find  the  work  a  source 
of  great  improvement  and  pleasure.  It  would  tend  to  keep 
distinctly  in  view  the  great  object  for  which  they  ought  to 
live,  and  repeatedly  recognizing,  as  they  doubtless  would  do, 
the  hand  of  God,  they  would  feel  more  sensibly  and  more 
constantly  their  dependence  upon  him. 

The  form  and  manner  in  which  such  a  journal  should  be 
written  might  properly  -be  the  same  with  that  described 
under  the  last  head — the  word  family  being  substituted  for 
personal  in  the  general  title.  It  ought  also  to  be  written  in 
such  a  style  and  upon  such  subjects  as  shall  render  it  proper 
to  give  children  free  access  to  it.  On  this  account  it  will  be 
well  to  avoid  such  particulars,  in  regard  to  any  child,  as  may 
be  flattering  to  his  vanity  when  he  shall  become  old  enough 
to  read  them,  and  to  refrain  from  making  a  record  of  faults 
winch  will  remain  a  standing  source  of  suffering  and  dis- 
grace, when  perhaps  they  ought  soon  to  be  forgotten.  It  is 
true,  that  one  of  the  most  important  portions  of  such  a  jour- 
nal would  consist  of  the  description  of  the  various  plans 
adopted  for  correcting  faults,  and  for  promoting  improve- 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  369 

ment — the  peculiar  moral  and  intellectual  treatment  which 
each  child  received — the  success  of  the  various  experiments 
in  education  which  intelligent  parents  will  always  be  dis- 
posed to  try — and  anecdotes  of  children,  illustrating  the  lan- 
guage, or  the  sentiments,  or  the  difficulties  of  childhood. 
With  a  little  dexterity,  however,  on  the  part  of  the  writer,  a 
faithful  record  of  all  these  tilings  can  be  kept,  and  yet,  by  an 
omission  of  names,  or  of  some  important  circumstances,  the 
evils  I  have  above  alluded  to  may  be  avoided. 

3.  Notes  and  abstracts.  It  is  sometimes  the  case  that 
young  persons,  when  they  meet  any  thing  remarkable  in  the 
course  of  their  reading,  transcribe  it,  with  the  expectation 
of  referring  to  their  copy  afterwards  to  refresh  their  memo- 
ries, and  thus,  after  a  while,  they  get  their  desks  very  full 
of  knowledge,  while  very  little  remains  in  the  head.  Now 
it  ought  to  be  remembered,  that  knowledge  is  of  no  value,  or 
at  least  of  scarcely  any,  unless  it  is  fairly  lodged  in  the  mind, 
and  so  digested,  as  I  have  before  shown,  as  to  become  a  per- 
manent possession.  Now,  if  transcribing  and  writing  note3 
and  abstracts  of  what  you  read  is  made  the  means  of  fixing 
thus  firmly  in  the  mind  your  various  acquisitions,  it  is  of 
immense  value  ;  if  made  the  substitute  for  it,  it  is  worse  than 
useless.  It  may  be  a  most  powerful  means,  as  any  one  may 
prove  to  himself  by  the  following  experiment. 

Read  some  history  in  the  ordinary  way,  without  the  use 
of  the  pen,  with  the  exception  that  you  select  some  chapter 
in  the  middle  of  the  work,  with  which  you  may  try  the 
experiment  of  an  abstract.  After  having  read  it  attentively, 
shut  the  book  and  write  the  substance  of  the  narrative  it 
contains.  The  more  you  deviate  hi  style  and  language  from 
^Qlir-autlior  the  better,  because,  by  such  a  deviation  you 
employ  more  your  own  original  resources,  you  reduce  the 
knowledge  you  have  gained  to  a  form  adapted  to  your  own 
habits  of  thought,  and  you  consequently  make  it  more  fully 
your  own,  and  fix  it  more  indelibly  in  the  mind.     After  fin 

16* 


370  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

isliing  the  abstract  of  that  chapter,  go  on  with  the  remainder 
of  the  book  in  the  usual  way,  by  simply  reading  it  atten- 
tively. You  vail  find  now,  if  you  carefully  try  this  experi- 
ment, that  the  chapter  which  you  have  thus  treated  will,  for 
many  years,  stand  out  most  conspicuous  of  all  in  your  recol- 
lections of  the  work.  The  facts  which  it  has  stated  will 
retain  a  lodging  in  your  minds  when  all  the  rest  are  forgot- 
ten, and  they  will  come  up,  when  wanted  for  use,  with  a 
readiness  which  will  show  how  entirely  you  made  them 
your  own. 

It  is  on  this  principle,  and  with  such  a  view,  that  notes 
and  abstracts  are  to  be  written.  Some  very  brief  practical 
directions  will  be  of  service  to  those  who  wish  to  adopt  the 
plan. 

Do  not  resolve  to  write  copious  abstracts  of  all  that  you 
read :  the  labor  would  be  too  great.  JSever  read,  however, 
without  your  abstract  book  at  hand,  and  record  whatever 
strikes  vou  as  desirable  to  be  remembered.  Sometimes, 
when  reading  a  book  of  great  importance,  and  full  of  infor- 
mation which  is  new  and  valuable,  you  may  write  a  full 
abstract  of  the  whole.  Gibbon,  the  celebrated  historian, 
attributed,  it  is  said,  much  of  the  success  of  his  writing  to 
the  influence  of  his  having  made  a  very  copious  abstract  of 
Blackstone's  Commentaries,  a  most  interesting  book,  and  one 
which  no  young  man  of  education  can  read  without  profit 
and  pleasure. 

Let  the  form  of  your  books  be  like  that  of  the  journals 
above  described  ;  with  ruled  lines  at  the  top  for  a  double 
running  title,  to  facilitate  reference.  These  lines  should  be 
ruled  on  through  the  book  at  first,  at  least  they  should  be 
kept  ruled  far  in  advance  of  the  writing,  or  the  writer  will 
inadvertently  omit  to  leave  a  space  for  them.  I  have  known 
many  books  commenced  on  this  plan,  but  never  one,  I 
believe,  without  having  this  accident  occur  to  vex  and  dis- 
courage the  writer. 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  371 

Let  your  abstracts  be  of  every  variety  of  form  and  man* 
ner.  Sometimes  long  and  sometimes  short,  sometimes  fully 
written  in  a  finished  style,  and  sometimes  merely  a  table 
of  contents  of  your  book.  There  may  be  a  blank  line  left 
between  the  separate  articles,  and  the  title  of  each  should 
be  written  before  it,  and  doubly  underscored,  that  is,  distin- 
guished by  a  double  line  drawn  under  it.  This  is  repre- 
sented in  printing  by  small  capitals.  When  this  is  the 
title  of  the  book  read,  and  is  prefixed  to  a  long  abstract,  it 
may  properly  be  placed  over  the  article.  Sometimes  the 
writer  will  merely  copy  a  remarkable  expression,  or  a  single 
interesting  fact ;  at  other  times  a  valuable  moral  sentiment, 
or  a  happy  illustration.  He  will  often  insert  only  a  single 
paraorami  from  a  long  book,  and  at  other  times  make  a  full 
abstract  of  its  contents.  But  I  must  give  specimens,  as  by 
this  means  I  can  much  more  readily  give  my  readers  an 
idea  of  my  meaning.  These  specimens  are  not  imaginary 
ones.  They  are,  with  one  or  two  exceptions,  all  taken  from 
three  or  four  abstract  books  of  different  young  persons,  who 
lent  them  to  me  for  this  purpose.  The  titles  in  capitals 
represent  the  underscored  words  described  above.  The  run- 
ning title  at  the  top  should  be  like  the  specimen  already 
given,  with  the  exception  that  the  words  notes  and  ab- 
stracts should  be  substituted  for  personal  journal. 

Friendship. — A  man  should  keep  his  friendship  in  constant 
repair. — Johnson. 

Reynolds. — Sir  Joshua  Reynolds,  a  celebrated  portrait 
painter,  cotemporary  and  friend  of  Johnson,  Goldsmith,  etc.,  one 
of  the  founders  of  the  Royal  Academy,  and  for  many  years  its 
president.  He  was  born  near  Plymouth,  but  resided  in  London 
during  most  of  his  life,  occasionally  making  tours  to  the  conti- 
nent. He  died  at  an  advanced  age,  of  a  disease  of  the  liver. — 
Northcote>s  Life  of  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds. 

Florence. — The  Academy  of  Fine  Arts  in  Florence  is  the 
most  celebrated  school  of  painting  in  the  world. 


372  THE   YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

Humboldt's  New  Spain. — Introduction  gives  an  account  of 
his  crwn  geometrical  and  astronomical  observations  in  attempt- 
ing to  determine  the  position  of  several  points,  and  likewise  the 
other  sources  of  information  which  he  had.  There  are  nine 
points,  at  each  of  whicli  a  communication  has  been  proposed  to 
be  made  between  the  Atlantic  and  Pacific — Vera  Cruz  the  east- 
ern, and  Acapulco  the  western  port  of  Mexico.  Gold  and  silver, 
he  says,  travel  from  west  to  east;  the  ocean,  the  atmosphere, 
and  civilization  in  a  contrary  direction.    . 

The  Andes  in  Peru  are  more  broken  and  rough  than  in 
Mexico;  the  plains,  though  elevated,  are  comparatively  small, 
and  hemmed  in  by  lofty  mountains,  or  separated  by  deep  pre- 
cipitous valleys. 

In  Mexico  the  chain  of  mountains  spreads  itself  out  into  im- 
mense plains,  with  few  sudden  declivities  or  precipices.  Fruits 
of  every  climate  may  be  cultivated  on  these  elevations  at  the 
various  heights,  but  not  with  so  much  success,  on  account  of 
the  rarefaction  of  the  atmosphere,  as  they  can  in  northern  lati- 
tudes. At  certain  seasons  of  the  year  both  coasts  of  Mexico  are 
inaccessible  on  account  of  storms.  The  navigation  on  the  east 
side  is  impeded  by  sand  banks,  washed  in  by  the  westerly  cur- 
rents of  the  ocean. 

Chronology. — Difference  between  the  chronology  of  the 
Hebrew  and  Septuagint  manuscripts. 

Mount  Ararat  probably,  in  the  north  of  India,  in  Shuckford's 
opinion. 

English  Empire  in  India. — The  English  and  French  had, 
about  the  middle  of  the  last  century,  several  factories  on  various 
parts  of  the  coasts  of  Hindoostan.  In  their  quarrels  with  each 
other  they  endeavored  to  secure  to  themselves  the  cooperation 
of  the  natives,  and  in  this  way  the  Europeans  and  the  Hindoos 
became  involved  in  the  wars  of  each  other.  The  English  were 
generally  successful,  and  in  this  way  gradually  extended  their 
influence  and  their  power. 

Raja  Dowlah,  sovereign  of  Bengal,  a  wealthy,  extensive, 
and  populous  country,  became  a  little  alarmed  at  the  progress 
which  the  English  made  in  their  contentions  with  the  French 
concerning  their  respective  settlements  in  that  country.  He 
endeavored   to   oppose  them,  and  in   consequence  the  Englisr 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  373 

fomented  a  conspiracy  against  his  government;  enticed  his  prime 
minister  to  treason,  and  then,  after  fighting  a  single  battle, 
placed  him  in  command.  Col.  Clive  was  the  instrument  of  this 
revolution.  The  province  of  Bengal  thus  came  into  the  hands 
of  the  East  India  Company. 

A  short  time  afterwards  the  French  were  conquered  at 
Coromandel,  and  the  natives  brought  under  the  power  of  the 
English. 

Synagogues. — It  is  generally  supposed  that  the  Jewish  syn- 
agogues originated  during  the  captivity,  and  were  continued 
after  their  return. — Kimpton. 

I  should  suppose,  from  the  appearance  of  these  articles 
which  were  the  first  few  pages  of  a  large  book  of  this  kind, 
that  they  were  all  the  notes  taken  of  the  reading  of  some 
weeks,  as  several  books  of  considerable  size  are  quoted  as 
authority.  It  is  not  best  that  the  writer  should  resolve 
upon  any  particular  quantity  each  day,  or  for  each  book, 
and,  as  I  remarked  in  regard  to  the  journal,  when  you  find 
that  you  have  for  some  time  neglected  your  pen,  do  not  be 
discouraged  and  give  up  the  plan,  but  just  begin  where 
you  left  off,  and  renew  your  work  and  your  resolution  to- 
gether. 

Sometimes  the  abstracts  may  be  in  a  more  abridged 
style,  like  a  table  of  contents.  They  can  be  more  rapidly 
written  in  this  form,  but  the  benefit  derived  from  the  exer- 
cise is  less.  The  following  is  an  example  from  another  book, 
by  another  writer.  You  will  perceive  that  the  style  is  so 
condensed  that  the  notes  can  merely  serve  as  memoranda 
for  the  writer's  own  use.  They  are  scarcely  intelligible  to 
another  person. 

HISTORY  OF  THE  BIBLE. 

Old  and  New  Testaments.  Hebrew  and  Greek.  Continua 
Scriptio.  At  various  times  and  places.  Samaritan  Pentateuch  : 
discrepancies  between  it  and  the  Hebrew  Bible.  Controversy. 
Discovery  in  modern  times  of  these  manuscripts. 


* 


374  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

Its  'preservation  by  successive  transcripts.  Old  ones  "worn 
out  and  lost.     Exemplars. 

Greek  Testament.  Why  in  Greek?  Circulated  in  manu- 
script. 

Textus  receptus.     Elzevir  edition.     Pres.  manuscripts   im- 
perfect.   Written  about  1,000  or  1,400  Alexandrian  manuscripts 
Vatican.     Modes  of  determining  antiquity.     British  Museum. 

Translations.      Septuagint.     Vulgate.      Printed   editions  of 
the   Bible    and    Greek   Testament.      Complutensian   Polyglot. 
Sources  of  information.      Manuscripts.     Septuagint.     Samari 
tan  Pentateuch ;  quotations,  1514. 

English.  Wickliffe's.  Oppositions  made  to  it.  Circulated 
in  manuscript.  Tindal's  printed  in  Holland.  Efforts  to  keep 
copies  out  of  England.  Bishop  of  London  bought  up  the  whole 
edition  to  burn.  James'  Bible.  Fifty-four  men  at  various  places, 
Cambridge,  Oxford,  and  Westminster.  Later  translations,  1607. 
Forty-seven  men  of  the  fifty  met  to  compare,  and  after  three 
years'  labor,  issued,  in  1660,  the  most  commonly  approved  ver- 
sion. 

Another  form  in  which  these  abstracts  may  be  written, 
where  the  importance  of  the  subject  or  the  interest  of  the 
reader  renders  it  desirable,  is  by  giving  a  full  and  complete 
view  of  the  facts  on  some  one  topic.  The  following,  taken 
from  a  third  abstract  book,  is  a  specimen  : 

SIR  HUMPHREY  DAVY. 

Born  at  Penzance,  Cornwall,  Eng.,  Dec.  1779.  His  family 
were  in  the  middle  rank  in  life,  and  in  reduced  circumstances, 
so  that  he  was  thrown  upon  his  own  efforts  and  resources  at  an 
early  age.  At  the  age  of  nine  years  distinguished  for  his  poeti- 
cal talents.  At  eighteen  his  acquirements  in  many  of  the  sci- 
ences were  good,  but  chemistry  particularly  arrested  his  atten- 
tion. His  first  experiments  showed  originality,  and  his  pursuit 
promised  useful  discoveries.  His  first  examination  of  sea- weed 
proved  that  marine  plants  exert  the  same  influence  upon  the  air 
contained  in  the  water  of  the  ocean,  as  land  vegetables  exert 
upon  the  atmosphere.  Two  years  after  commencing  his  chem- 
ical studies  he   published  his  ''Researches,"  which  exhibited 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  375 

great  skill,  and  gave  to  the  world  many  original  experiments 
and  discoveries.    He  first  tried  the  experiment  of  inhaling  the  ni- 
trous oxide — the  exhilarating  gas.    When  not  much  over  twenty 
years  of  age  he  was  designated  to  fill  the  chemical  chair  in  the 
Royal  Institution  in  Great  Britain,  founded  by  Count  Rumford. 
His  first  efforts  in  this  elevated  sphere  were  turned  towards 
endeavoring  to  render  his  powers  useful  and  advantageous  to 
the  arts  employed  in  the  humbler  walks  of  life.     The  tanning 
of  leather  and  agricultural  implements  were  among  the  subjects 
of  his  first  attention,  and  he  adapted  himself  admirably  to  the 
circumstances  of  the  practical  agriculturist.    In  1806-7  he  made 
his  brilliant  discoveries  in  galvanism;  in  1810  he  brought  for- 
ward his  theory  respecting  the  nature  of  chlorine,  or  oxymuri- 
atic  acid,  which  gave  rise  to  a  memorable  controversy  that  agi- 
tated the  schools  of  chemistry  ten  years.     At  the  close  of  this 
period  nearly  the  whole  army  of  chemists  came  over  to  his  side. 
In  1812  he  was  knighted  by  the  Prince  Regent,  (George  IV..) 
and  was  thus  released  from  the  arduous  duties  of  the  professor- 
ship, and  was  enabled  to  devote  himself  wholly  to  his  pursuits. 
His  attempts  to  unroll  the  valuable  MSS.  found  in  the  ruins  ot 
Herculaneum,  1,696  in  number,  were  frustrated  by  unavoidable 
obstacles  thrown  in  his  way  by  jealous  superintendents  of  the 
Museum ;  but  the  enterprise  was  not  wholly  fruitless,  twenty- 
three  MSS.  being  partially  unrolled.     The  year  1818  was  ren- 
dered memorable  by  the  invention  of  the  safety  lamp.     Terrible 
disasters  had  occurred  in  the  coal-mines  in  England  for  years — 
a  species  of  gas  extricated  from  the  coal,  on  mixing  with  atmos- 
pheric air.  takes  fire  from  a  lamp,  and  explodes  with  great  vio- 
lence.    All  previous  efforts  to  obviate 'these  dangers  had  proved 
ineffectual;   but  the  experience  of  fourteen  years,  while  this 
lamp  has  been  in  constant  and  extensive  use,  without  the  occur- 
rence of  a  single  explosion,  proves  its  importance,  and  the  ben- 
efit conferred  on  the  world  by  its  invention.     In  1820,  by  a 
majority  of  two  hundred  to  thirteen,  he  was  elected  president  of 
the  Royal  Institution.     His  last  great  scientific  effort  was  the 
discovery  of  a  method  of  protecting  the  copper  sheathing  of  ships 
from  corrosion  by  sea-water.     His  method  of  proceeding  in  this 
and  all  similar  cases,  was  simple  and  obvious,  yet  one  rarely 
followed,  namely,  first  to  ascertain  the  cause  of  the  evil,  and 
then  to  find  out  how  to  control  it  by  studying  its  nature.     He 


376  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

died  at  Geneva,  where  lie  had  resorted  for  his  health,  of  apo- 
plexy, aged  50  years  and  6  months. 

I  have  one  more  form  to  describe,  in  which  these  notes 
and  abstracts  may  be  kept.  It  requires  a  little  higher  intel- 
lectual effort,  and  is  consequently  more  useful  than  the 
other.  You  meet,  in  conversation  or  in  reading,  with  some 
fact  which  illustrates  a  useful  and  important  general  prin- 
ciple, or  which  suggests  to  you  an  interesting  train  of 
thought :  you  record  the  fact  and  the  reflections  which  it 
suggests  together.  For  example,  to  make  use  of  a  case 
which  actually  occurred,  a  sea-captain  remarks  hi  your 
hearing  that  it  is  unwise  to  promise  sailors  extra  pay  for 
their  extra  exertions  in  difficult  emergencies,  for  it  soon  has 
the  effect  of  rendering  them  indolent  whenever  such  extra 
pay  is  not  offered.  They  are  continually  on  the  watch  for 
occasions  on  which  they  can  demand  it.  This  conversation 
might  suggest  the  following  entry  in  a  note-book. 

Hiring  Children. — Parents  should  never  promise  their 
children  any  reward  for  doing  right,  or  for  refraining  from  doing 
wrong.  A  sea-captain  was  once  so  unwise  as  to  promise  his 
sailors  in  a  storm,  that  if  they  would  exert  themselves  he  would 
reward  them  by  an  addition  to  their  wages  when  the  storm  was 
over.  They  did  make  an  unusual  effort,  and  received  the  re- 
ward •  but  the  consequence  was,  that  he  could  never  afterwards 
get  them  to  do  their  duty  in  a  storm  without  a  reward  being 
promised.  In  the  same  maimer,  if  parents  begin  by  hiring  their 
children  to  do  right,  they  will  not  afterwards  do  right  without 
being  hired. 

The  following  are  similar  examples,  but  on  different 
subjects.  The  second  was  written  by  a  pupil  in  a  female 
school. 

The  Saviour's  Thirst  on  the  Cross. — The  dreadful  thirst\ 
of  the  Saviour  on  the  cross  was  occasioned  by  the  violent  fever 
produced  by  the  inflammation  of  his  wounds.     I  met  with  the 
following  passage  to-day  in  the  narrative  of  a  soldier,  which 
illustrates  this  subject : 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  377 

Yv  & 

" 1  remember  well,  as  we  moved  down  in  column,  shot  and 
shell  flew  over  and  through  it  in  quick  succession.  W  e  sustain- 
ed little  injury  from  either ;  but  a  captain  of  the  twenty- ninth 
had  been  dreadfully  lacerated  by  a  ball,  and  lay  directly  in  our 
path.  We  passed  close  to  him ;  he  knew  us  all ;  and  the  heart- 
rending tone  in  which  he  called  to  us  for  water,  or  to  kill  him,  I 
shall  never  forget.  He  lay  alone,  and  we  were  in  motion,  and 
could  give  him  no  succor ;  for  on  this  trying  day,  such  of  the 
dying  as  could  not  walk,  lay  unattended  where  they  fell.  All 
was  hurry  and  struggle ;  every  arm  was  wanted  in  the  field." 

Deceiving  Children. — Returning  from  school  yesterday 
afternoon,  my  attention  was  arrested  by  the  loud  voice  of  some 
one  addressing  a  child ;  I  turned,  and  as  I  walked  very  leisurely, 
I  overheard  the  following  conversation : 

Lady.  "  John,  leave  off  playing  in  the  snow;  see  your  clean 
clothes  now ;   and  your  shoes  are  filled  with  snow. 

John.  "I  don't  care  for  that;  I  shall  play  here  if  I'm  a 
mind  to,  for  all  you." 

Lady.  "You  little  impudence;  I  don't  love  you,  I  don't  love 
you  at  all." 

John.  "Well,  that's  no  matter." 

Lady.  "  I'll  go  off,  then ;  good-night.    I  am  going  to  the  jail." 

She  turns  round,  and  walks  down  the  street  a  little  distance. 

Lady.  "  You  see  I'm  going,  John." 

John.  "  I  don't  care  if  you  are." 

Presently  she  walked  slowly  back  and  came  up  to  John;  at 
the  same  time  he  gave  a  hearty  laugh,  saying,  "  I  thought  you 
were  going  to  the  jail." 

I  had  now  got  so  far  as  not  to  be  able  to  hear  what  more 
they  said,  but  I  could  not  help  pitying  the  child,  who  thus  early 
was  taught  to  disobey  his  superiors,  for  surely  it  is  nothing  less. 

Many  parents,  and  even  brothers  and  sisters,  complain  of  the 
conduct  of  the  younger  members  of  their  families,  while  they  are 
continually  treating  them  in  this  manner ;  they  certainly  need 
expect  nothing  better  from  them  while  they  endeavor  thus  to 
deceive  them. 

The  above  examples  illustrate  well  what  I  mean  by 
turning  knowledge  to  account,  drawing  from  it  the  practical 
lessons  which  it  may  help  to  teach.     This  is  in  fact  the 


373  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

most  important  part  of  your  object  in  mental  cultivation. 
Many  young  persons  err  exceedingly  in  seeking  simply  know 
ledge,  which  they  treasure  up  in  a  cold  and  speculative  form, 
without  drawing  from  it  any  moral  lessons,  or  making  it  the 
means  of  awakening  any  of  the  strong  emotions  of  the  heart. 
But  I  wish  my  readers  would  always  remember,  that  moral 
progress  is  far  more  valuable  than  intellectual;  the  latter  in 
fact  is  but  the  instrument  of  the  former.  In  all  your  writ 
ing,  then,  aim  at  accomplishing  the  real  object  which  ought 
always  to  be  kept  in  view.  In  selecting  from  your  reading, 
or  from  your  personal  observation,  what  you  will  impress 
upon  your  memories  with  the  pen,  choose  those  facts  and 
occurrences  which  touched  your  hearts,  and  whose  impres- 
sions your  pen  may  strengthen  or  renew.  I  close  the  chap- 
ter with  two  specimens  which  will  illustrate  this.  One.  as 
will  be  evident  from  its  own  allusions,  was  written  by  a 
pupil  in  a  female  boarding-school ;  and  it  will  be  observed 
in  reading  it,  how  the  ordinary  occurrences  of  life  may  be 
made  the  means,  through  the  instrumentality  of  reflection 
and  of  the  pen,  of  fixing  in  the  heart  the  lessons  of  the 
Bible.  Both  narratives  are  substantially  true :  the  latter 
entirely  so. 

"  Boast  not  thtself  of  to-morrow." — Yesterday  our  sum- 
mer term  closed,  and  a  day  of  bustle  it  was.  Every  moment 
that  could  possibly  be  spared  from  our  studies  was  devoted  to 
preparations  for  returning  home — packing  trunks,  exchanging 
parting  words,  and  talking  over  various  plans  for  enjoyment  dur- 
ing the  vacation,  which  all  seemed  to  anticipate  as  a  continued 
scene  of  unalloyed  happiness. 

My  afflicted  room-mate  Ellen  was  then  the  happiest  of  the 
She  is  an  only  daughter,  a  most  affectionate,  warm- 
hearted girl ;  and  has  been  so  much  elated  for  the  last  few  days 
at  the  thought  of  meeting  her  beloved  parents  and  brothers,  that 
she  has  seemed  to  tread  on  air ;  but  I  fear  now,  that  when  they 
meet,  it  will  be  in  deep  sorrow. 

Last  evening  we  assembled  in  the  hall  for  our  devotions,  and 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  379 

as  is  customary,  each  young  lady  repeated  a  test  of  scripture 
before  we  united  in  prayer.  "  Boast  not  thyself  of  to-morrow, 
for  thou  knowest  not  what  a  day  may  bring  forth,"  was  Ellen's 
text.  It  was  particularly  observed  by  several,  on  account  of  the 
appropriate  warning  it  seemed  to  convey.  She  little  thought 
how  soon  her  own  experience  would  confirm  its  truth.  After 
bidding  our  teacher  good-night,  she  skipped  up  stairs  with  a  glee 
and  light-heartedness  that  could  scarcely  be  restrained  within 
proper  bounds,  exclaiming,  "  To-morrow — to-morrow  how  happy 
I  shall  be." 

"  Remember  your  text,  dear  Ellen,"  said  one  of  our  beloved 
companions  with  a  sober  smile,  as  she  passed  on  to  her  own 
room.  "  I  wish  J.  would  not  talk  so  seriously,"  said  Ellen,  as 
we  closed  our  door  for  the  night;  "but  then,  after  all,  I  love  her 
the  more  for  it.  I  heard  some  one  say,  that  she  had  been  much 
afflicted  for  one  so  young." 

This  morning  Ellen  was  awake  at  the  peep  of  dawn,  and 
waked  me,  that  I  might  enjoy  with  her,  through  our  half-closed 
curtains,  the  deepening  glow  in  the  east,  which  gave  promise  of 
a  fine  day  for  her  ride  home.  When  the  bell  summoned  us  to 
prayers,  every  thing  was  ready  for  the  journey,  and  she  met  the 
family  in  her  riding-dress,  that  no  time  might  be  lost  after  her 
father,  whom  she  expected  for  her,  should  arrive. 

"  Boast  not  thyself  of  to-morrow,  for  thou  knowest  not  what 
a  day  may  bring  forth,"  were  the  first  words  that  met  our  ear 
from  the  selection  of  scripture  which  our  teacher  had  chosen  for 
the  morning. 

"We  have  had  your  text  again,  Ellen,"  whispered  one  of  the 
girls  as  we  went  to  the  breakfast-room.  "  Ominous  of  evil — say 
you  not  so  ?" 

"I  am  not  superstitious,"  said  Ellen,  smiling;  "besides,  it 
refers  to  to-morrow,  not  to  to-day" 

At  the  breakfast-table  little  was  eaten  and  little  was  said. 
There  were  happy  faces  there,  but  the  joyous  excitement  of  the 
preceding  evening  had  given  place  to  deeper  feeling.  Many  were 
in  a  few  hours  to  meet  their  beloved  parents,  from  whom  they 
had  been  separated  for  several  months ;  and  all  were  expecting 
some  friend  to  take  them  to  their  respective  homes.  Our  parting 
was  not.  however,  to  be  particularly  painful,  as  all  expected  to 
meet  again  at  the  expiration  of  the  vacation. 


350  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

As  we  -were  rising  from  the  table  a  servant  came  in  with  the 
letters  which  had  arrived  in  the  morning's  mail.  One  was  given 
to  Ellen.  She  broke  the  seal,  and  glancing  at  the  contents, 
hastily  placed  it  in  the  hand  of  the  governess  and  rushed  up  to 
her  own  room.  I  followed,  and  found  her  in  tears,  greatly  agi- 
tated. Her  emotion  was  too  great  to  allow  her  to  tell  me  the 
cause.  The  governess  came  up  and  gave  me  the  letter  to  read, 
kindly  saying  at  the  same  time  that  I  had  better  leave  Ellen 
alone  a  few  minutes,  until  the  first  burst  of  sorrow  should  be 
over,  and  then  she  would  be  in  a  better  state  to  listen  to  the 
voice  of  consolation. 

The  letter  was  from  her  parents ;  brief,  yet  evidently  written 
under  the  influence  of  strong  excitement.  They  had  just  heard 
of  the  sudden  and  dangerous  illness  of  their  eldest  son,  a  young 
gentleman  of  high  promise,  who  had  nearly  completed  his  pro- 
fessional studies.  His  physicians  gave  not  the  slightest  hope  of 
his  life.  His  parents  made  immediate  preparations  for  leaving 
home,  with  the  faint  hope  that,  by  rapid  travelling,  they  might 
be  enabled  to  be  with  their  beloved  child  in  his  dying  moments. 
They  could  not  take  Ellen  with  them,  and  the  best  arrangement 
they  could  make  for  her  was  to  have  her  remain  where  she  then 
was  until  their  return. 

I  returned  to  Ellen,  but  found  her  scarcely  more  composed 
than  when  I  left  her.  To  this  brother  she  was  most  fondly  at- 
tached. He  had  written  to  her  frequently,  and  taken  a  deep 
interest  in  her  studies  and  amusements.  He  expected  to  have 
been  at  home  during  a  part  of  her  vacation,  and  now  the  thought 
of  never  meeting  him  again  was  agony.  I  knew  not  what  to  say ; 
I  could  only  weep  with  her,  and  silently  commend  her  to  ;:  Hirn 
who  healeth  the  broken  in  heart,"  entreating  that  she  might  be 
enabled  submissively  to  say,  "  Thy  will  be  done." 

My  father  consents  that  I  should  remain  for  two  or  three 
days  with  Ellen.  I  know  that  more  striking  instances  of  the 
uncertainty  of  earthly  prospects  are  constantly  occurring,  but  I 
feel  that  the  scenes  of  to-day  have  made  an  impression  upon  my 
own  heart  and  the  hearts  of  my  companions  that  can  never  bo 
effaced.  I  shall  never  again  hear  others  planning  with  confi- 
dence for  the  future,  without  flunking  of  poor  Ellen's  disap- 
pointment and  affliction,  and  of  the  text,  "  Boast  not  thyself  of 
to-morrow;  for  thou  knowest  not  what  a  day  may  bring  forth.' 


:) 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  38J 

The  other  narrative  is  more  serious  still  in  its  subject. 
Both  might  have  been  given  with  propriety  as  specimens  of 
personal  journals,  though,  as  they  do  not  give  strictly  the 
personal  history  of  the  writer,  they  may  perhaps  better  be 
inserted  here.  I  admit  this  last  the  more  readily,  as  the 
thoughts  of  the  final  account  which  we  all  must  render  are 
brought  up  very  distinctly  to  view  by  it,  and  this  thought  is 
a  very  proper  one  to  be  presented,  now  that  this  volume  is 
drawing  to  a  close,  as  a  means  of  fixing  the  resolutions  which 
I  trust  some  at  least  of  my  readers  have  formed,  and  stimu- 
lating them  to  diligence  in  duty. 

THE   DYING  BED. 

On  Monday,  a  few  minutes  before  breakfast,  a  messenger 
came  to  me  with  a  note  from  a  gentleman  whom  I  shall  call 
Mr.  A.,  whose  wife,  the  Saturday  previous,  was  taken  suddenly 
ill.  She  became  worse  and  worse,  until  she  was  considered  in  a 
dangerous  situation.  And  now  her  husband  addressed  a  note  to 
me,  requesting  me  to  visit  his  wife,  "for  she  is,"  said  he,  "as 
sick  as  she  can  well  live." 

Immediately  after  breakfast  I  hastened  over  to  their  house, 
and  found  her  very  weak  and  low.  She  seemed  near  her  end. 
Having  understood  that  neither  herself  nor  husband  were  pro- 
fessing Christians,  I  attempted  to  point  out  to  her  without  delay 
the  way  to  be  saved,  and  directed  her  mind  at  once  to  the  Sav- 
iour of  sinners.  She  could  just  speak  a  few  words  in  faint  and 
broken  whispers — just  enough  for  me  to  ascertain  her  anxious 
and  agitated  feelings.  I  endeavored  to  compose  her  mind,  and 
to  explain  the  feelings  which  were  becoming  in  us  as  sinners, 
when  we  look  to  the  Saviour  for  pardon  and  peace.  She  looked 
and  listened  with  intense  interest,  and  I  have  seldom  felt  as  I 
then  did,  the  responsibility  of  trying  to  direct  any  one,  but  espe- 
cially any  one  in  the  immediate  prospect  of  eternity,  to  the  Lamb 
of  God,  who  taketh  away  the  sins  of  the  world.  I  looked  to  the 
Saviour  to  help  and  to  guide  me,  to  put  such  thoughts  in  my 
heart  and  words  in  my  mouth  as  he  saw  were  necessary,  and  as 
would  be  suited  to  the  sick,  and  as  I  supposed,  dying  woman.  I 
besought  him  earnestly,  in  silence,  that  he  would  assist  me  in 
being  faithful  and  useful  to  her  immortal  soul. 


382  THE   YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

After  some  few  questions,  and  some  remarks  and  quotation? 
from  the  Saviour's  words,  at  her  request  I  engaged  in  prayer. 
Her  husband,  one  son  about  twelve,  another  son  about  six  years, 
and  her  youngest  child  about  eighteen  months,  were  present. 
Several  other  relations  and  friends  were  also  there.  We  kneeled 
around  her  bedside  and  besought  the  Lord  for  her.  Occasionally 
the  voice  of  prayer  was  interrupted  by  the  swoon  into  which  she 
was  falling  every  few  minutes.  After  a  short  prayer  we  rose. 
All  was  silent,  except  the  sighing  of  her  friends  around  her,  the 
noise  of  the  fan,  and  the  catching  of  her  breath  as  she  recovered 
from  a  swoon. 

After  a  few  minutes  had  elapsed,  during  which  she  seemed 
struggling  with  sickness  and  with  a  tumult  of  feeling  in  her 
bosom,  she  called  the  different  members  of  her  family  around 
her.  First  to  her  husband  she  addressed  herself  somewhat  in 
these  words : 

"  And  now,  my  dear  husband,  I  hope  you  will  keep  your  res- 
olution, and  not  let  the  next  communion  season  pass  without 
making  a  profession*  I  have  been  more  lukewarm  than  you. 
If  I  had  been  as  much  engaged  as  you  have,  we  should  have 
both  of  us  been  members  of  the  church  long  ago,  but  I  have  held 
back.     I  hope  you  will  not  fail  to  keep  your  resolution.'' 

She  then  most  affectionately  bade  him  farewell,  expressing 
the  tenderest  interest  in  his  religious  purposes,  and  in  the  hope 
of  a  happier  meeting  in- heaven.  After  a  moment's  pause  she 
took  her  eldest  son  by  the  hand,  and  addressed  him  as  follows : 

"  And  now,  my  dear  son  William,  I  am  going  to  leave  you. 
Your  poor  mother  is  going,  and  you  will  be  left  without  father 
or  mother  in  the  world  ;t  but  Mr.  A.  has  always  treated  you  as 
one  of  his  own  children ;  and  if  you  will  be  good  and  obedient, 
he  will  always  be  a  father  to  you.  Be  a  good  boy,  my  son,  and 
God  will  take  care  of  you." 

The  poor  little  boy,  as  he  held  his  mother's  hand  in  one  of 
his  own,  and  covered  his  eyes  with  the  other,  wept  and  sobbed  as 
though  his  heart  would  break.     She  then  took  her  little  Edward 

*  They  had,  at  a  communion-service  in  their  neighborhood,  a  short  time 
before,  unitedly  resolved  to  improve  the  next  occasion,  which  was  expected  in 
a  few  weeks,  to  connect  themselves  with  the  church,  and  enter  upon  all  the 
duties  of  a  Christian  life. 

+  He  was  the  son  of  her  former  husband. 


"«^«" 


PERSONAL  IMPROVEMENT.  o63 

by  the  hand,  and  hade  him  a  similar  and  equally  affecting 
adieu. 

The  youngest,  about  eighteen  months  old,  she  requested  to 
he  laid  upon  a  pillow  in  her  bosom.  She  tenderly  embraced  it, 
and  all  wept. 

She  then  called  for  her  mother-in-law,  who  was  behind  her— 
the  bed  standing  in  the  middle  of  the  room — "  And  what  shall  1 
say  to  you,'"'  said  she;  '"'you  have  been  a  mother  to  me.;'  She 
turned  to  a  gentleman  who  had  been  a  long  and  valued  friend, 
and  who  was  now  at  her  side  fanning  her,  and  in  tears,  and  tak- 
ing his  hand,  expressed  her  ardent  affection  and  gratitude  towards 
him  for  his  kindness  and  attention  during  their  long  acquaint- 
ance. She  alluded  to  an  interview  with  him  many  years  ago, 
and  seemed  most  deeply  affected  in  remembrance,  as  I  thought, 
of  some  proofs  of  real  fraternal  kindness  which  she  then  received 
from  him. 

She  sent  ker  last  message  to  her  parents,  brothers,  and  sisters, 
and  when  her  strength  and  voice  failed  her,  she  just  uttered  in  a 
faint  whisper, 

""  Please  to  sing,  '  Life  is  the  time  to  serve  the  Lord.' ' 

A  lady  who  was  present,  and  whose  eyes  and  heart  were 
full,  said, 

;;  I  would  take  another — lO  for  an  overcoming  faith  !'  "' 

The  hymn-book,  however,  was  given  to  her  husband,  who 
read  two  lines  at  a  time  of  the  hymn  his  wife  had  named,  when 
all  who  could  sing,  and  whose  emotions  would  allow  it,  joined 
in  singing,  until  the  husband,  completely  overcome,  dropped  his 
head,  unable  to  proceed.  Another  then  took  the  book,  and  as 
well  as  we  could,  with  tears  and  faltering  voices  we  closed  the 
hymn. 

As  I  read  over  my  description  of  this  scene,  I  am  so  struck 
with  its  utter  weakness,  that  I  almost  regret  that  I  attempted  to 
make  it.  It  made  an  impression  upon  my  mind  that  I  cannot 
transcribe.  0  that  the  delusive  hope  of  preparing  for  death  uj  I 
a  death-bed  were  banished  for  ever  from  the  earth. 

I  have  inserted  the  two  foregoing  specimens,  in  order  to 
bring  up  as  distinctly  as  possible  this  principle,  namely,  that 
in  all  your  efforts  at  intellectual  improvement,  you  ought  to 
look  with  special  interest  at  the  moral  bearings  and  rela 


384  THE   YOUNG   CHRISTIAN. 

tions  of  all  which  you  read  or  hear.  The  heart  is  the  true 
seat  both  of  virtue  and  happiness,  and  consequently  to  affect 
the  heart  is  the  great  ultimate  object  of  all  that  we  do. 
The  intellect,  then,  is  only  the  avenue  by  which  the  heart 
is  to  be  reached,  and  you  will  derive  not  only  more  benefit, 
but  far  greater  pleasure  from  reflection  and  writing,  if  you 
are  accustomed  to  consider  the  moral  aspects  and  relations 
of  every  tiling  which  you  observe,  or  of  which  you  read  or 
hear. 

A  great  prominence  has  been  given  in  this  chapter  to 
the  use  of  the  pen,  as  a  means  of  intellectual  and  moral  im- 
provement. I  assure  my  readers,  that  the  power  of  the  pen 
for  such  a  purpose  is  not  overrated.  I  am  aware  that  a 
great  many  persons,  though  they  may  approve  what  I  have 
said,  will  not  make  any  vigorous  and  earnest  efforts  to  adopt 
the  plan.  Still  more  will  probably  begin  a  book  or  two,  but 
will  soon  forget  their  resolution,  and  leave  the  half-finished 
manuscript  in  some  neglected  corner  of  their  desks  finally 
abandoned.  But  if  any  should  adopt  these  plans,  and  faith- 
fully prosecute  them,  they  will  find  that  the  practice  of  ex- 
pressing in  their  own  language  with  the  pen  such  facts  as 
they  may  learn,  and  such  observations  or  reflections  as  they 
may  make,  will  exert  a  most  powerful  influence  upon  all 
the  habits  of  the  mind,  and  upon  the  whole  intellectual 
character. 


CONCLUSION.  380 


CHAPTER   XII. 

CONCLUSION. 

*  And  now  I  commend  you  to  God,  and  to  the  word  of  his  grace,  which  is  able 
to  build  you  up,  and  to  give  you  an  inheritance  among  all  them  which  are 
sanctified." 

As  I  draw  towards  trie  close  of  this  volume,  I  think  of 
the  influence  which  it  is  to  exert  upon  the  many  who  will 
read  it,  with  mingled  emotions  of  hope  and  fear.  I  have 
endeavored  to  state,  and  to  illustrate,  some  of  the  prominent 
principles  of  Christian  duty ;  and  if,  my  reader,  you  have 
perused  these  pages  with  attention  and  care,  they  must  have 
been  the  means  of  bringing  very  plainly  before  your  mind 
the  question,  whether  you  will  or  will  not  confess  and  for- 
sake your  sins,  and  henceforth  live  to  God,  that  you  may 
accomplish  the  great  object  for  which  life  was  given.  I 
shall  say  nothing,  in  these  few  concluding  paragraphs,  to 
those  who  have  read  thus  far  without  coming  in  heart  to 
the  Saviour.  If  they  have  not  been  persuaded  ere  this  to 
do  it,  they  would  not  be  persuaded  by  any  thing  which  I 
have  time  and  space  now  to  say.  I  have,  however,  before 
ending  this  volume,  a  few  parting  words  for  those  who  have 
accompanied  me  thus  far,  with  at  least  some  attempt  at 
self-application — some  desire  to  cherish  the  feelings  which  I 
have  endeavored  to  portray — some  penitence  for  sin,  and 
resolutions  to  perform  the  duties  which  I  have  from  time  to 
time  pressed  upon  them. 

It  is,  if  the  Bible  is  true,  a  serious  thing  to  have  oppor- 
tunity to  read  a  religious  book — and  more  especially  for  the 
young  to  have  opportunity  to  read  a  practical  treatise  on 
the  duties  of  piety,  written  expressly  for  their  use.  The 
time  is  coming  when  we  shall  look  back  upon  all  our  privi- 
leges with  sad  reflections  at  the  recollection  of  those  which 

Y.  Chris  tins,  1 7 


386  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

we  have  not  improved ;  and  it  is  sad  for  me  to  think,  that 
many  of  those  who  shall  have  read  these  pages  will  in  a 
future,  and  perhaps  not  a  very  distant  day,  look  upon  me  as 
the  innocent  means  of  aggravating  their  sufferings,  by  hav- 
ing assisted  to  bring  them  light,  which  they  nevertheless 
would  not  regard.  This  unpleasant  part  of  my  responsibility 
I  must  necessarily  assume.  I  share  it  with  every  one  who 
endeavors  to  lay  before  men  the  principles  of  duty,  and  the 
inducements  to  the  performance  of  it.  He  who  enlightens 
the  path  of  piety,  promotes  the  happiness  of  those  who  are 
persuaded  to  walk  in  it,  but  he  is  the  innocent  means  of 
adding  to  the  guilt  and  misery  of  such  as  will  still  turn 
away.  To  one  class  of  persons,  says  Paul,  "  we  are  the 
savor  of  death  unto  death,  and  to  the  other,  the  savor  of  life 
unto  life." 

It  is  not  merely  to  those  v/ho  absolutely  neglect  or  refuse 
to  do  their  duty  to  God,  that  the  ill  consequences  of  having 
neglected  their  privileges  and  means  of  improvement  will 
accrue.  These  consequences  will  be  just  as  sure  to  those 
who  partially  neglect  them.  I  will  suppose  that  a  young 
person  whose  heart  is  truly  renewed,  and  who  has  begun  to 
live  to  God,  hears  of  this  book,  and  procures  it  to  read.  She 
feels  desirous  of  cultivating  Christian  principles,  and  sits 
down  to  her  work  with  a  sincere  desire  to  derive  spiritual 
benefit  from  the  instructions.  She  does  not  run  over  the 
pages,  culling  out  the  stories  for  the  sake  of  the  interest  oi 
the  narrative,  and  neglecting  all  the  applications  of  them  to 
the  purposes  of  instruction  ;  but  she  inquires,  when  a  fact  or 
an  illustration  is  introduced,  for  what  purpose  it  is  used — 
what  moral  lesson  it  is  intended  to  teach — and  how  she  can 
learn  from  it  something  to  guide  her  in  the  discharge  of  duty. 
She  goes  on  in  this  manner  through  the  book,  and  generally 
understands  its  truths  and  the  principles  it  inculcates ;  but 
6he  does  not  cordially  and  in  full  earnest  engage  in  the  prac- 
tice of  them.     For  example,  she  reads  the  chapter  on  con- 


CONCLUSION.  S87 

fession,  and  understands  what  I  mean  "by  full  confession  of  all 
sins  to  God,  and  forms  the  vague  and  indefinite  resolution  to 
confess  her  sins  more  minutely  than  she  has  done ;  but  she 
does  not,  in  the  spirit  of  that  chapter,  explore  fully  all  her 
heart,  and  scrutinize  with  an  impartial  eye  all  her  conduct, 
that  every  thing  which  is  wrong  may  be  brought  to  light, 
and  frankly  confessed  and  abandoned.  She  does  not,  in  a 
word,  make  a  serious  and  an  earnest  business  of  confessing 
and  forsaking  all  sin. 

In  another  case,  a  young  man  who  is  perhaps  sincerely 
a  Christian,  though  the  influence  of  Christian  principle  is 
yet  weak  in  his  heart,  reads  that  portion  of  the  work  which 
relates  to  the  Sabbath.  He  knows  that  his  Sabbaths  have 
not  been  spent  in  so  pleasant  or  profitable  a  manner  as  they 
might  be,  and  he  sees  that  the  principles  pointed  out  there 
would  guide  him  to  duty  and  to  happiness  on  that  day,  if  he 
would  faithfully  and  perseveringly  apply  them  to  his  own 
case.  He  accordingly  makes  a  feeble  resolution  to  do  it. 
The  first  Sabbath  after  he  reads  the  chapter,  his  resolutions 
ire  partially  kept.  But  he  gradually  neglects  them,  and 
returns  to  his  former  state  of  inaction  and  spiritual  torpor  on 
God's  holy  day.  Perhaps  I  express  myself  too  strongly  in 
speaking  of  inaction  and  torpor  as  being  a  possible  state  of 
mind  for  a  Christian  on  the  Sabbath  ;  but  it  must  be  admit- 
ted, that  many  approach  far  too  near  to  it. 

Now,  there  is  no  question  that  many  young  Christians 
will  read  this  book  in  the  manner  I  have  above  described ; 
that  is,  they  throw  themselves,  as  it  were,  passively  before 
it,  allowing  it  to  exert  all  the  influence  it  will  by  its  own 
power,  but  doing  very  little  in  the  way  of  vigorous  effort  to 
obtain  good  from  it.  They  seem  to  satisfy  themselves  by 
giving  the  book  an  opportunity  to  do  them  good,  but  do  little 
to  draw  from  it,  by  their  own  efforts,  the  advantages  which 
it  might  afford.  Now,  a  book  of  religious  instruction  is  not 
like  a  medicine*  which,  if  it  is  once  admitted  into  the  system, 


388  THE  YOUNG-  CHRISTIAN. 

will  produce  its  effect  without  any  farther  effort  on  the  part 
of  the  patient.  It  is  a  tool  for  you  to  use  industriously  your- 
self. The  moral  powers  will  not  grow  unless  you  cultivate 
them  by  your  own  active  efforts.  If  you  satisfy  yourself 
with  merely  bringing  moral  and  religious  truth  into  contact 
with  your  mind,  expecting  it,  by  its  own  power,  to  produce 
the  hoped-for  fruits,  you  will  be  like  a  farmer  who  should,  in 
the  spring,  just  put  a  plough  or  two  in  one  part  of  his  field, 
and  half-a-dozen  spades  and  hoes  in  another,  and  expect  by 
this  means  to  secure  a  harvest.  Many-persons-read  religious 
books  continually,  but  make  no  progress  in  piety.  The  rea- 
son is,  their  own  moral  powers  are  inert  while  they  do  it. 
The  intellect  may  be  active  in  reading  and  understanding 
the  successive  pages,  but  the  heart  and  the  conscience  lie 
still,  hoping  that  the  truth  may  of  itself  do  them  good.  They 
bring  the  instrument  to  the  field  and  lay  it  down,  and  stand 
by  its  side  wondering  why  it  does  not  do  its  work. 

I  beg  my  readers  not  to  treat  this  volume  in  that  way, 
and  not  to  suppose  that  simply  reading  and  understanding 
it,  however  thoroughly  it  may  be  done,  will  do  them  any 
good.  The  book,  of  itself,  never  can  do  good.  It  is  intend- 
ed to  guide  its  readers  to  Christ,  and  show  how  they  may 
get  good  to  themselves,  and  it  will  benefit  none  who  are  not 
willing  to  be  active  in  its  application  and  use. 

Do  you,  my  reader,  really  wish  to  derive  permanent  and 
real  benefit  from  this  book  ?  If  so,  take  the  following  meas- 
ures ;  it  is  a  course  which  it  would  be  well  for  you  always 
to  take  at  the  close  of  every  book  you  read  on  the  subject  of 
duty.  Recall  to  mind  all  those  passages  winch,  as  you  have 
read  its  pages,  have  presented  to  you  something  which  at 
the  time  you  resolved  to  do.  Recollect,  if  you  can,  every 
plan  recommended,  which,  at  the  time  when  you  were  read- 
ing it,  seemed  to  be  suited  to  your  own  case,  and  which  you 
then  thought  you  should  adopt.  If  you  have  forgotten  them, 
you  can  easily  call  them  to  mind  by  a  little  effort,  or  by  a 


CONCLUSION.  389 

cursory  review.  You  will  thus  bring  up  again  to  your  minds 
those  points  in  which  the  instructions  of  the  book  are  partic- 
ularly adapted  to  your  own  past  history  and  present  spiritual 
condition. 

After  having  thus  fully  reconsidered  the  whole  ground, 
and  gathered  all  the  important  points  which  are  peculiarly 
adapted  to  your  own  case  into  one  view,  consider  deliber- 
ately, before  you  finally  close  the  book,  what  you  will  do 
with  regard  to  them.  If  any  thing  has  been  made  plain  to 
be  your  duty,  consider  and  decide  distinctly  whether  you  will 
do  it  or  not.  If  any  thing  has  been  shown  to  be  conducive 
to  your  happiness,  determine,  deliberately  and  understand- 
ingly,  whether  you  will  adopt  it  or  not.  Do  not  leave  it  to 
be  decided  by  chance,  or  by  your  own  accidental  feelings  of 
energy  or  of  indolence,  what  course  you  will  take  in  refer- 
ence to  a  subject  so  momentous  as  the  questions  of  religious 
duty.  I  fear,  however,  that  notwithstanding  all  that  I  can 
say,  very  many,  even  among  the  most  thoughtful  of  my 
readers,  will  close  this  book  without  deriving  from  it  any 
permanent  good,  either  in  their  conduct  or  their  hearts.  It 
will  have  only  produced  a  few  good  intentions,  which  will 
never  be  carried  into  effect,  or  aroused  them  to  momentary 
effort,  which  will  soon  yield  again  to  indolence  and  languor. 

There  is  no  impression  that  I  would  more  strongly  desire 
to  produce  in  these  few  remaining  pages,  than  that  you 
should  be  in  earnest,  in  deep  and  persevering  earnest,  in  your 
efforts  after  holiness  and  salvation.  If  you  are  interested 
enough  in  religion  to  give  up  the  pleasures  of  sin,  you  can- 
not be  happy  unless  you  secure  the  happiness  of  piety. 
There  are,  at  the  present  day,  great  numbers  in  whose 
hearts  religious  principle  has  taken  so  strong  a  hold  as  to 
awaken  conscience  and  to  destroy  their  peace,  if  they  con- 
tinue to  sin ;  but  they  do  not  give  themselves  up  ivith  all 
their  hearts  to  the  service  of  the  Saviour.  They  feel,  con- 
sequently, that  they  have  lost  the  world ;  they  cannot  be 

17* 


390  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

satisfied  with  its  pleasures,  and  they  are  unhappy,  and  fee- 
that  they  are  out  of  place  when  in  the  company  of  its  vota- 
ries. Bat  though  they  have  thrown  themselves  out  of  one 
home,  they  do  not,  in  earnest,  provide  themselves  with 
another.  They  do  not  give  all  the  heart  to  God.  No  life 
is  more  delightful  than  one  spent  in  intimate  communion 
with  our  Father  above,  and  in  earnest  and  devoted  efforts  to 
please  him  by  promoting  human  happiness ;  and  none  is 
perhaps  more  unhappy,  and  prepares  more  effectually  for  a 
melancholy  dying  hour,  than  to  spend  our  days  with  the 
path  of  duty  plain  before  us,  and  conscience  urging  us  to 
walk  in  it,  while  we  hang  back,  and  walk  with  a  slow  and 
hesitating  step,  and  look  away  wistfully  at  the  fruits  which 
we  dare  not  taste.  Do  not  take  such  a  course  as  this.  "When 
you  abandon  the  world,  abandon  it  entirely ;  and  when  you 
choose  God  and  religion  for  your  portion,  do  it  with  all  your 
heart.  Outrun  conscience  in  the  path  of  duty,  instead  of 
waiting  to  have  your  lagging  steps  quickened  by  her  scourge. 
Once  more.  Much  less  of  life  is  left  to  you  than  you 
generally  suppose.  Perhaps  the  average  age  of  the  readers 
of  this  book  is  between  fifteen  and  twenty,  and  fifteen  or 
twenty  years  is  probably,  upon  an  average,  half  of  life.  I 
call  you  young,  because  you  are  young  in  reference  to  the 
active  business  of  this  world.  You  have  just  reached  the 
full  development  of  your  powers,  and  have  consequently  but 
just  begun  the  actual  work  of  life.  The  long  years  that  are 
past  have  been  spent  in  preparation.  Hence  you  are  called 
young — you  are  said  to  be  just  beginning  life,  understand- 
ing, by  life,  the  pursuits  and  the  business  of  maturity.  But 
life,  if  you  understand  by  it  the  season  of  preparation  for 
eternity,  is  more  than  half  gone  ;  life,  so  far  as  it  presents 
opportunities  and  facilities  for  penitence  and  pardon — so  far 
as  it  bears  on  the  formation  of  character,  and  is  to  be  con- 
sidered as  a  period  of  probation — is  unquestionably  more  than 
half  gone  to  those  who  are  between  fifteen  and  twenty.     In 


CONCLUSION.  391 

a  vast  number  of  cases  it  is  more  than  half  gone,  e"v<n  in 
Smration,  at  that  time  ;  and  if  we  consider  the  thousand 
influences  which  crowd  around  the  years  of  childhood  and 
youth,  winning  to  piety,  and  making  a  surrender  to  Jehovah 
easy  and  pleasant  then,  and  on  the  other  hand  look  forward 
beyond  the  years  of  maturity  and  see  these  influences  losing 
their  power,  and  the  heart  becoming  harder  and  hardei 
under  the  deadening  effects  of  continuance  in  sin,  we  shall 
not  doubt  a  moment  that  the  years  of  youth  make  a  far 
more  important  part  of  our  time  of  probation  than  all  those 
that  follow. 

You  will  do  right  then,  when  you  are  thinking  of  your 
business  or  your  profession,  to  consider  life  as  but  begun ; 
but  when  you  look  upon  the  great  work  of  preparation  for 
another  world,  you  might  more  properly  consider  it  as  nearly 
ended.  Almost  all  moral  changes  of  character  are  usually 
effected  before  the  period  at  which  you  have  arrived,  and 
soon  all  that  will  probably  remain  to  you  on  earth  is  to 
exemplify,  for  a  few  years,  the  character  which  in  early  life 
you  formed.  If,  therefore,  you  would  do  any  thing  in  your 
own  heart  for  the  cause  of  truth  and  duty,  you  must  do  it 
in  earnest,  and  must  do  it  now. 

I  have  intended  this  book  chiefly  for  the  young,  but  1 
cannot  close  it  without  a  word  at  parting  to  those  of  my 
readers  who  have  passed  the  period  of  youth.  If  the  work 
shall  at  all  answer  the  purpose  for  which  it  is  intended,  it 
will,  in  some  instances  at  least,  be  read  by  the  mature  ;  and 
I  may  perhaps,  without  impropriety,  address  a  few  words 
respectfully  to  them. 

You  are  probably  parents ;  your  children  have  been 
reading  this  book,  and  you  have  perhaps  taken  it  up  because 
vou  are  interested  in  whatever  interests  them.  You  feel 
also  a  very  strong  desire  to  promote  their  piety,  and  this 
desire  leads  vou  to  wish  to  hear,  yourselves,  whatever  on 


392  THE    YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

this  subject  is  addressed  to  them.  I  have  several  times  in 
the  course  of  this  work  intimated,  that  the  principles  which 
it  has  "been  intended  to  illustrate  and  explain,  are  equally 
applicable  to  young  and  old.  It  has  been  adapted,  in  its 
style  and  manner  only,  to  the  former  class  ;  and  I  have 
hoped,  as  I  have  penned  its  pages,  that  a  father  might  some- 
times himself  be  affected  by  truths  which  he  was  reading 
during  a  winter  evening  to  his  assembled  family ;  or  that  a 
mother  might  take  up  the  book  purchased  for  her  children, 
and  be  led  herself  to  the  Saviour  by  a  chapter  which  was 
mainly  written  for  the  purpose  of  winning  them.  I  do  not 
intend,  however,  to  press  here  again  your  own  personal 
duties.     I  have  another  object  in  view. 

That  object  is  to  ask  you  to  cooperate  fully  and  cordially 
in  this,  and  in  all  similar  efforts  to  promote  the  welfare  of 
your  children.  If  you  have  accompanied  them  through  this 
volume,  you  will  know  what  parts  of  it  are  peculiarly  adapt- 
ed to  their  condition  and  wants.  These  parts  you  can  do 
much  to  impress  upon  their  minds  by  your  explanations,  and 
by  encouraging  them  to  make  the  efforts  they  require.  The 
interest  which  a  father  or  a  mother  takes  in  such  a  book,  is 
a  pretty  sure  criterion — it  is  almost  the  very  regulator  of 
that  felt  by  the  child. 

If  you  notice  any  thing  in  the  volume  which  you  think 
erroneous,  or  calculated  to  lead  to  error ;  or  if  there  is  any 
fault  which  your  child  discovers  and  brings  to  you,  with  a 
criticism  which  you  feel  to  be  just,  do  not  deny  or  attempt 
to  conceal  the  fault  because  it  occurs  in  a  book  whose  gen- 
eral object  and  aim  you  approve.  Separate  the  minute 
imperfections  from  the  general  object  and  design  of  the 
whole  ;  and  while  you  freely  admit  a  condemnation  of  the 
one,  show  that  it  does  not  affect  the  character  of  the  other, 
and  thus  remove  every  obstacle  which  would  impede  what 
is  the  great  design  of  the  book,  to  press  the  power  of  relig- 
'•ms  obligation  in  its  most  plain  and  simple  form. 


CONCLUSION.  393 

On  the  other  hand,  do  not  magnify  the  faults  whifch  you 
may  find,  or  think  you  find,  or  turn  off  the  attention  of  your 
children  from  the  serious  questions  of  duty  which  the  book 
is  intended  to  bring  before  the  conscience  and  the  heart,  to 
a  cold  and  speculative  discussion  of  the  style,  or  the  logic, 
or  the  phraseology  of  the  author.  A  religious  book  is  in  some 
degree  entitled  to  the  privilege  of  a  religious  speaker.  Par- 
ents easily  can,  on  their  walk  home  from  church,  obliterate 
all  serious  impressions  from  the  minds  of  their  children,  by 
conversation  which  shows  that  they  are  looking  only  at  the 
literary  aspects  of  the  performance  to  which  they  have  lis- 
tened. In  the  same  manner  they  can  destroy  the  influence 
of  a  book,  by  turning  away  attention  from  the  questions  of 
duty  which  it  brings  up,  to  an  inquiry  into  the  logic  of  an 
argument,  or  a  comment  upon  the  dulness  or  the  interest  of 
a  story. 

There  is  one  thing  more  which  I  may  perhaps  without 
impropriety  say.  Your  religious  influence  over  your  chil- 
dren will  depend  far  more  on  your  example  than  upon  your 
efforts  to  procure  for  them  good  religious  instruction.  They 
look  to  you  for  an  exemplification  of  piety,  and  if  they  do 
not  see  this,  you  cannot  expect  that  they  will  yield  them- 
selves to  its  principles  on  your  recommendation.  Your  chil- 
dren, too,  must  see  piety  exemplified  in  a  way  which  they 
can  appreciate  and  understand.  To  make  vigorous  efforts 
for  the  support  of  the  gospel — to  contribute  generously  for 
the  various  benevolent  objects  of  the  day — and  even  to  culti- 
vate in  your  hours  of  secret  devotion  the  most  heartfelt  and 
abasing  penitence  for  sin,  will  not  alone  be  enough  to  recom- 
mend piety  effectually  to  your  children.  They  look  at  other 
aspects  of  your  conduct  and  character.  They  observe  the 
tone  of  kindness  or  of  harshness  with  which  you  speak — the 
tranquillity  or  the  irritation  with  which  you  bear  the  little 
trials  and  disappointments  of  life — your  patience  in  suffering, 
and  your  calmness  in  danger.     They  watch  you  to  observe 


394  THE  YOUNG  CHRISTIAN. 

how  faithfully  you  perform  the  ordinary  duties  of  your  sta- 
tion. They  look  with  eager  interest  into  your  countenance, 
to  see  with  what  spirit  you  receive  an  injury,  or  rebuke  what 
is  wrong. 

By  making  faithful  and  constant  efforts  to  live  like  Chris- 
tians yourselves,  and  to  exhibit  to  your  children  those  effects 
of  piety  upon  your  conduct  and  character  which  they  can 
understand  and  appreciate,  and  by  adapting  religious  instruc- 
tion to  the  peculiar  intellectual  habits  of  the  young,  you  may 
anticipate  a  sure  and  an  abundant  blessing  upon  your  labors. 
Childhood  is  a  most  fertile  part  of  the  vineyard  of  the  Lord. 
The  seed  which  is  planted  there  vegetates  very  soon,  and  the 
weeds  which  spring  up  are  easily  eradicated.  It  is  in  fact 
in  every  respect  an  easy  and  a  pleasant  spot  to  till,  and  the 
flowers  and  fruits  which,  with  proper  effort,  will  bloom  and 
ripen  there,  surpass  all  others  in  richness  and  beauty. 


14  DAY  USE 

RETURN  TO  DESK  FROM  WHICH  BORROWED 

LOAN  DEPT. 

This  book  is  due  on  the  last  date  stamped  below, 
or  on  the  date  to  which  renewed.  Renewals  only: 

Tel.  No.  642-3405 
Renewals  may  be  made  4  days  prior  to  date  due. 
Renewed  books  are  subject  to  immediate  recall. 


M 


*ram  AUGl  0  73 -gAMl  7 


JESt  W.      MAR  2  3  78 


R£ee/V£D 

May  •■>  a  1, 

RECCIR- JJLl  0*80  ~4    ?9gft 


t 


LD2lA-20m-3,,73  TT    •Ge^al/ib^     • 

(Q8677sl0)476-A-31  Umversy^tf  California 


I  \_J      C-.  '  ^   '  ^ 


U.C.  BERKElEt  UW**« 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  UBRARY 


% 


m 


■       :  I 

I 

•  iic 

Y/A 


fS:\ 


ill  J  '|tr----i^j 

''Villi!     I  'illtr-^-  4 

ij  j  jiiiy 


H 


l& 


